


Welcome to the New Age

by blueandie



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Romance, Will eventually reach the Canon Storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 73,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14555883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueandie/pseuds/blueandie
Summary: Snatched from her home, Katara is raised in a foreign land by enemies of her people. Fate intervenes and she finds herself in a forest with a rag-tag group of rebels. Learning to survive is paramount, her beliefs are questioned and her role in the 100 year war will hang in the balance.





	1. Silence

Silence.

Before she could bring herself to open her eyes, she knew she was alone. Slowly, through her pounding headache, she peeled her eyes open and blearily peered out.

Darkness.

She couldn't see a thing. Swallowing down a panicked cry, she tried to listen for anything that could let her know where she was. Nothing. She couldn't hear anything above the rhythmic thumping of her head.

She was cold. The air felt dry and stagnant, causing her breath to catch as she tried to calm herself down. A few deep breaths. Her hands were bound. She pushed herself off the cold metal, swaying as she sat up. Poor decision. Falling back, her already complaining head striking a smooth, cool surface. A wall. She tentatively felt behind her and leaned against it. She shut her eyes again.

Gradually, she recognised a calming sensation falling over her. One that she had felt before, that made up her very psyche. The ocean. Deep breath. Why could she feel the ocean? Her brief feeling of calm was shattered with the realisation that she could feel the movement of the ocean. She was in a ship. Why was she in a ship?

Her mind wandered to her last memories before the darkness. NO! The smell of blood and burnt flesh, the sound of the cries and the sight… Pain coursed through her. Her heart constricted in her chest and her eyes burned as she felt trails of warmth spill over from her eyes. She brought her knees to her chest and allowed the pain to consume her.

It passed, leaving her depleted. Her throat was parched. Deep breath. She reached out, permitting the sound of the waves breaking against the outside of the ship to calm her again. The Fire Nation ship. Shoving down the memories that threatened to overwhelm her again, she reached her bound hands to her face, wiped the damp trails from her face and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. The fingers of her right hand felt something odd and she explored the right side of her head. She winced and tentatively felt the edge of a wound stretching from just above her browline into her hair. That might explain the headache.

An inadvertent tug on her hair caused a stab of pain through her head and she abandoned her exploration, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat to the darkness and even though she was unable to see much, a barely noticeable outline of the metal box she was in had emerged from the obscurity. It was too small, she would have been unable to take more than a few steps to reach the other side, and there was nothing else in there. Just her. Only one distinctive feature was contained in the room, a door opposite her. There was no light entering the room from the door yet it had a slitted window near the top. Her stomach turned, she was in a cell. It was different, yet eerily similar, to the ones that she had once seen at home, when her father had taken both her and her brother to see where prisoners were kept before the tribe could pass judgement on a crime. Most of the rooms she'd seen there were not empty as this room was but she was certain of its purpose. She was in a cell. On a Fire Nation ship. This was not good.

She didn't know how long she sat there, fighting the rising panic flooding her senses and forcing herself to focus on the ocean. She concentrated on breathing deeply, matching the rhythm of the waves. Eventually her headache receded into a dull thumping, even though the dizziness remained, and she became increasingly aware of the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. The ropes around her wrists had been tied too tightly, cutting into the skin and irritating her when she investigated the marks. Her stomach grumbled at her. She had no concept of when she last ate. Was it still the same day as the invasion? Or had it been longer.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the muted sound of a slammed door somewhere above her. She strained, trying to hear something, anything else, her nerves on edge. But silence had descended again. It took a while for her mind to calm back down but eventually the darkness enveloped her again. This time she welcomed it.

* * *

A door slammed near her. She bolted upright, her head screaming at her. Through the residues of her disturbed sleep, she blinked frantically, trying to see around her. She could hear footsteps. Muffled voices. They were getting closer. Light spilled in through the crevices in the door. Her heart leapt into her throat and her hands clenched into fists, ignoring the burn of the rope around her abused wrists.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. The voices cut off. She could see something block the light at the window. The sound of a key entering the lock caused her chest to burn and it took a moment to realise that she was holding her breath. Letting it out in a pained gasp, she braced herself against the cool steel behind her back.

There was a click and the door creaked as it opened towards her, the light from the corridor temporarily blinding her. Her eyes burned but she couldn't bring herself to shut them, staring at the two figures standing in the doorway. They were tall, their silhouettes terrifying. Both were covered in full Fire Nation armour, the shoulders extending out in points and with helmets concealing their heads. There was a white plate where their faces should be and she shrunk back against the wall, eyes wide as they observed her.

"The brat's awake."

The voice that emerged from behind the face plate on the left was hoarse, yet cold. She flinched at the sound.

"Do you know where you are peasant?"

She didn't say anything, too afraid to open her mouth and answer. An aggravated sound followed her silence.

"Answer me you little brat!" Left Face Plate snapped, taking a step towards her. She was frozen, unable to move, to speak. He raised his hand, a slight glow emerging in the air above it. "Shall we see if we can loosen her tongue?"

"Not worth the hassle with Yon Rha, he wants the girl to face the Fire Lord." Right Face Plate finally spoke, his words firm as he placed a hand on the other soldier's arm. "What she did back there may provide him with some entertainment. He may have some fun dealing with the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. Can't deprive him of that. Come on, leave her here till tomorrow. She's got to get hungry sometime."

Left Face Plate lowered his hand and pulled back from her. Nodding to his fellow soldier, he turned and swiftly walked out of the cell. Her eyes focussed on the remaining soldier who appeared to be still staring at her. She didn't blink, could barely breathe. She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, but eventually the Right Face Plate backed into the corridor and shut the door. A moment passed and the light from the corridor disappeared, plunging the cell back into darkness.

* * *

When she next recovered consciousness, the cell was rocking and she could hear the waves crashing against the outside of the ship. She felt nauseous despite the emptiness of her stomach. Her headache had dimmed to a quiet grumble, noticeable but no longer overwhelming. Her throat was burning and parched and it reminded her of a hunting and gathering trip a few months prior. She'd been allowed to join some of the women of her tribe in a day-long expedition out into the snowy tundra behind her village searching for various hardy plants that could sustain themselves in the barren ecosystem. Violent icy winds had dragged her woollen scarf covering the lower half of her face and for the briefest time, her throat had been assaulted with the harsh cold. In response to her raspy cry, her mother had removed her own mask and wrapped it around her head. Her mother's eyes had twinkled as she smiled at her, amused by the view of her daughter's head encased in a scarf far too large for her before fashioning a new one for herself out of her supplies. She felt the tears threatening to well up again at the memory, and pushed the thoughts from her mind, sinking her face into her hands resting on her knees. The strength to hold her head up was quickly draining from her. She felt exhausted. Empty. Broken.

The sound of boots swiftly moving down the corridor towards her cell dragged her from her misery. She raised her head, feeling the stiffness in the back of her neck. Once again, light leaked into her cell before the sound of a key screeched through her weary brain, reigniting the headache. As the door swung open, she was surprised to only see one figure standing there. He moved forward into the room and she was too weary to shift herself or look away.

"Do you know where you are?" Through the pain in her head, she recognised the voice of Right Face Plate.

"Y-yes". Her voice was quiet and sounded foreign to her, the disuse and dehydration causing it to rasp and catch in her throat. He was silent and after a moment, she continued. "On a F-f-fire Nation ship."

"Correct. We are heading to the Fire Nation. You are a waterbender. You are to be presented to the Fire Lord for his judgment. Do you understand?"

She slowly nodded.

"I don't like kids being held as prisoners," he said, before muttering, "especially one as young as my daughter." She barely heard the words, and sat there in silence, unsure whether she was expected to respond. Eventually, a distorted sigh escaped from behind the face plate, the sound reverberating around the walls. "Look, if you behave, we can give you something to eat."

She nodded again and he spun on his heel, swiftly leaving the room and shutting the cell door. She didn't have to wait long before he returned with a small plate containing a steamed bun and a small glass of water. A second soldier followed him into the cell but hung back, staying near the door. Right Face Plate bent down and passed her the glass. Without hesitation, she downed the water, the tension easing from both men at the action. The liquid was barely more than a mouthful, but her stomach complained at the intrusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her stomach to hold back its rebellion. After a moment, the sensation reduced and she opened her eyes to find that both men had stepped back towards the door.

"T-thank you." Her voice had not regained any of its smoothness or volume but her throat wasn't complaining as loudly as earlier.

Right Face Plate nodded to her, before removing the cup from her hand. Both men left the cell, their footsteps receding. They left the corridor light on, and leaving the white outline of the small bun still visible. She slowly pulled apart the bun with her bound hands, its texture a little crumbly and dry, and ate in small mouthfuls, willing her stomach to keep each bite down as it passed her lips. Her stomach felt less empty, but her nausea increased with the unexpected introduction of food. Unable to keep the exhaustion at bay any longer, she lay down and curled up. Eventually the dizziness passed and she allowed the crashing waves to ease her back into a restless slumber.

* * *

_All around her was chaos. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, causing her to gag. The flames were harsh and hissed through the crisp air. Blood splattered on the snow, glaring against the bright white canvas. Behind her, she could hear the screams ripping through the previously tranquil morning, alongside the war cries and clang of metal as the two armies clashed. Seeing soldiers ahead of her, she ducked behind a makeshift barrier, curling her body as small as she could. After their heavy footsteps passed her, she popped back out and ran. Ran for her home. The cold air assaulted her throat as she panted heavily but she forced her legs to keep pushing. She had to get home. She turned the corner and a moment of relief overwhelmed her as she saw the small igloo. The sight of her home always caused a warm feeling to course through her. Home was her favourite place in the world, home was safe, home was happiness, home was love. She cried out as she burst through the canvas door. Then froze, a scream caught in her throat. He turned to glare at the intrusion and all she could see was the cold black eyes…_

* * *

She bolted upright, panic surging through her. Her head was on fire, tears poured down her cheeks and her wrists burned as she tried to wrench them apart in her terror. It took a long time to bring her heartrate back down to a regular beat, even longer before her mind allowed her to think past the pain. The tears kept coming. She slowly gained enough awareness of her surroundings to be confused at how her body had enough moisture to cry. A few shuddering breaths and the tears slowly subsided.

The light from the corridor had gone. The storm outside had waned and she sat there for a while, listening to the harmonious, calming waves, before she heard someone in the corridor again.

Lights. Footsteps. Door.

This time it was only one soldier and when he spoke, she immediately recognised Right Face Plate's voice.

"How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy."

"What is your name?"

She didn't answer. After a moment, he continued despite her silence.

"I'm going to bring you some more water and get the doctor to check you. Are you able to behave or am I going to have to get someone to restrain you?"

"I will behave."

Clearly satisfied with her answer, he left and brought back a small glass and another man, one without a face plate. There were dull purple bags under his eyes and his hair was slightly tangled, but he looked at her directly. A small smile graced his face, causing the deep wrinkles near his eyes to crinkle. He placed a small black bag down before crouching next to her.

"My name is Doctor Pang. I am going to check your head and your legs."

His hands were warming, welcomed after the cold floor she'd been sleeping on. They quickly and efficiently skimmed her legs and prodded gently at the worst of the lacerations. Thick cloth and a bottle were removed from the bag. She screwed up her nose at the sharp odour that emerged from the bottle as it was opened, the smell causing her dizziness to overtake her headache again. Doctor Pang noticed her discomfort, apologised and leaned away from her as he poured a tiny amount onto the cloth.

"This is going to sting a little but I need to clean the cuts you have. You're going to need to be brave. Can you do that?"

She nodded, but wasn't prepared for the burning that flowed across her skin as the cloth touched the first of the cuts. She gritted her teeth and crushed her eyes shut, a few tears squeezing out. The smell made her light-headed. She embraced the sensation; it drowned out the pain she was trying to block from her mind. It was over quickly, leaving a stinging sensation and Pang promptly wound the bandage around the affected part of her legs.

"That should stop any infection from spreading." He leaned forward to look at her head. "Head wounds always look really messy. This one is nasty though."

She pulled away at the first contact, a gasp escaping from her. Soon, the horrible smell was back and the burning felt like it was exploding within her head. The agony caused her to bite the inside of her cheek, blood spilling into her mouth. It felt like an eternity but eventually the head wound was also bandaged. Pang leaned back on his heels and smiled at her.

"Do you know who you are?"

She nodded.

"Do you know where you are?"

"On a Fire Nation ship."

"Where did you come from?"

"The Southern Water Tribe."

"How old are you?"

"Seven."

Pang nodded at her before turning to face Right Face Plate. "She doesn't appear to have any issues stemming from the head injury, but I will check on it tomorrow and change the bandages." He got up, his knees creaking miserably. He waited while Right Face Plate passed her the glass of water and she finishes it quickly. Smiling again, he turned and left the cell.

"We are on course for the Fire Nation and should be there within the week. The storm slowed us down a bit." When she didn't answer, Right Face Plate continued. "My name is Lieutenant Yao. Can you tell me your name?"

Silence.

He removed his face plate, and she blinked up at the weathered face gazing upon her. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, but that expression did not reach his deep amber eyes which still had a sparkle to them. As he looked at her, he sighed and his mouth crept up in a little smile, lighting his eyes. He repeated the question then patiently waited. Eventually, she found the courage to give up a little bit of herself, her identity, and found that her voice was a bit stronger than before, despite catching as she answered him.

"M-my name is Katara."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi everyone! After six months of just reading everything I could find on here, I thought I might as well dive head-long into my own story. So naturally I planned out one with five arcs. This should be fun! Just thought it may help to give you a rough idea as to where this is heading. The first arc will be predominately focussed on the next few years of Katara’s life in the Fire Nation, along with a pre-Ba Sing Se Iroh and a certain young prince.
> 
> Due to some twists and turns of fate this will be followed by a second arc in Jet’s forest with an early version of the Freedom Fighters. Because of the timelines involved, this arc will involve some run-ins with a subsequently banished prince and his blue-masked alter-ego. Her path will inevitably collide with the Gaang’s when the canon timeline catches up and I have some surprises up my sleeve for how that will all play out.
> 
> Thanks for reading this far. Hope you enjoy!


	2. Arrival

Katara had no idea of how many days had passed since she was taken from her home. She dozed in and out of consciousness for the first few days, oblivious to any routine that could aid in her understanding of the passage of time. Visits from Doctor Pang led her to think that they must be closing in on the Fire Nation. But she tried to avoid thinking about that. What would be the use? Her head thumped less and the dizziness had receded since the first days. Her stomach no longer revolted from the food that she intermittently received. Lieutenant Yao was often the one to bring her meal and small quantities of water. He often said a few words to her but he hadn’t removed his face plate in front of her again. The other soldiers were not friendly. Often her food was tipped off the plate or the water was not given to her, taunting her with the empty cup to see the surprise in her eyes when she realised there is nothing in there. She stayed silent and tried not to provoke any reaction from the faceless soldiers.

She spent most of her time telling herself little stories in her mind, drawing from the ones that she used to hear at bedtime and the ones that she would tell the younger kids in the tribe along with her brother Sokka. The memory of her family still caused an influx of tears and misery but the stories helped pass the agonising wait. 

Settling the plate down in front of her and passing the glass to her, Lieutenant Yao breezed through his standard questions as she drunk the few mouthfuls of water she had been given. How was she? Did her head still hurt? She answered then settled in to eat the bun. Surprisingly, he didn’t leave as he usually would. After a moment, she looked up at him again confused.

“We are expected to reach the Fire Nation tomorrow.” Noticing the widening of her eyes, he hastily continued. “When we arrive, you will be taken to a cell close to the Palace where you will await a summons from the Fire Lord. He will decide what is to be done with you. When you are taken to meet him, you must bow as low to the ground as you can. Kneel, bend forward and rest your forehead on the ground. Do not raise your head until you are prompted to. Do you understand? Failure to do this would be seen as the height of disrespect and would not bode well for his decision regarding your future. Can you remember that?”

She nodded and he continued. “Katara, do not waterbend unless he specifically asks you to. Try to answer his questions as briefly as possible. Do not give him a reason to be angry with you.”

Her bun was left abandoned as she tried to quench the panic rising in her throat. Yao appeared to notice her reaction to his instructions and he removed his faceplate, crouching down beside her until he was only slightly above her eye level. 

“Just stay calm. Be polite. Remember to bow. You will be able to do this.”

She found it hard to align her views of Fire Nation soldiers with the man in front of her. Even the other Fire Nation soldiers had not given her pause to reconsider any illusions she had about the men behind the face masks. But both Yao and Doctor Pang had been kind to her. She gave a shy smile and reassured him that she had heard.

“I can do that. Thank you.”

“I will check on your progress in the Fire Nation. I hope that there will be some news.” He put a hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before getting back up. “I will be back in the morning with some food and the doctor. We should be expecting to arrive at the Caldera by early afternoon.”

He replaced his face plate and exited the cell, leaving her to abandoned food, turbulent thoughts and rising bile in her throat.

* * *

Reassurance from Pang and Yao the following morning had done little to alleviate the tension that clung to her. They repeated the advice Yao had given her the previous day, reiterating the need for the bow to be as deep as possible. She nodded at each of their instructions and gave them a small smile, thanking them again for their concern and that it had helped. They all knew she was lying. The panic was still apparent in her large, clear blue eyes and her hands had begun to shake the closer they got to their destination. They stayed with her a bit longer than usual, mainly in silence, but she had appreciated the company. Eventually the calm was interrupted by another soldier arriving in the doorway.

“Yon Rha has requested everyone to the deck for last minute preparations. We are approaching. Leave the girl.”

After the soldier left, both Pang and Yao gave her last minute words of encouragement and left. This time, the solitude was welcomed. She did not want them to be there as her calm façade broke down. Her shoulders shook and the tears coursed down her face, dripping from her chin and pooling on her arms as they clutched her knees to her chest.

* * *

The trumpets were sharp and blaring, drawing her from the surrender to her misery. Drawing a deep breath in, she wiped her face on her sleeve, ignoring the filthiness of the material. Before long, she could hear a number of footsteps towards her cell and this time, she found herself looking at four soldiers towering over her. 

“Get up brat. Before I make you.” 

She didn’t hesitate at the tone of his voice, pushing herself up and swaying before leaning back again the wall. She warily glanced at each of the soldiers looking at her, unsure of what was expected of her. She didn’t need to wait for long before two of them surged forward, grabbing her arms too tightly before walking her into the corridor. She blinked rapidly as her eyes tried desperately to adjust to the intensity of the flames lighting the corridor. She didn’t trust her legs. They felt flimsy after the weeks of disuse and she was confusingly grateful that the soldiers were basically dragging her along the corridor and up the stairs at the end. The other two soldiers flanked her; one walking in front of them and one following, extinguishing the flames as they left her residence for the last period. The labyrinth of corridors in the ship extended out in front of her, overwhelming and complicated. Her body was slumping by the time they reached a large door and emerged onto the deck. 

The air was sticky. There was no wind. The sun was ruthless. She felt herself overheat and shifted uncomfortably. The grip on her left arm bit into the muscle and she had to bite down a cry. Looking around, the view of the vast expanse of the ocean calmed her. She allowed the feeling from the ocean override the discomfort from the heat and breathed deeply, feeling the power drawn from being so close to her element course through her aching limbs. Pins and needles pricked through her senses, her lower legs still recovering from the foreign return to movement.

A bark of orders broke through the daze Katara found herself in. The sound of that voice sent chills running through her body and pain to seize through her chest. No. No. Not him. Her chest felt too tight. The discomfort from her exhausted muscles was easily pushed from her mind. Anger and pain was all that remained. Fear bubbled up. No. She refused to fear him. Fighting down the panicky breaths and refusing the tears to fall, she slowly raised her eyes to focus her glare on the owner of that harsh voice. The source of her agonising memories, the reason for her waking nightmare. She barely felt the hands dragging her across the deck towards him. 

“Commander, we have the waterbender.”

Katara felt her breath hitch as he turned around and stared down at her. Even in the light, the helmet encasing his head projected a terrifying silhouette, black flames cutting in a perverted frame to his face and maroon flames arching above his head. But that was not what caused the fear to return, catching in Katara’s throat. It was those cold black eyes, devoid of any light or meaning that bore through her. As he observed her, his mouth creaked outwards into a smirk, thin eyebrows arched up until they disappeared behind the curves of the helmet. 

“Are you afraid, little peasant?” his voice rasped as he harshly mocked her. “Good. You should be. You aren’t going to last one day in there, you filthy little urchin.” 

Fear and anger warred within Katara and she finally focussed her glare back on his face. Her strength faded as he derisively laughed at her efforts.

“Take her away.”

* * *

Katara felt the shackles cutting into her wrists, rubbing them raw, as she followed the soldier dragging her through the Royal Caldera City. It was overwhelming. She had heard that the Fire Nation Capital was built in the crater of a volcano but to see the slopes of the volcano in real life, arcing up in the distance towards the horizons and above the grandiose walls surrounding her, took her breath away. It was beyond any possible image she could have created in her head, nor drawn from the stories she had been told as a child. The city itself was a collection of sprawling houses with crimson, gabled roofs and magnificent, sweeping walls. 

The heat had not abated and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back as she was forced to maintain a stumbling pace after the men. She could see people peering out at the procession of soldiers, shying back into the shelter provided by the surrounding buildings. Prying eyes watching her, judging her. A moment of lost concentration and she faltered over an uneven tile and lurched forwards. The masked soldier in front tugged unforgivingly on the chain, yanking her back into a more upright position. She winced as blood pooled in the curve of her wrists. Deep breath. Ignore them. Ignore them all. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

Her muscles aching, she raised her head again to regain her bearings. The sight of an extravagant tower looming above the heads of the soldiers sent relief to her limbs and alarm throughout her. They were close. Every step brought the eaves of the roofs of the palace buildings further into view. Eventually they stood below the towering stone walls surrounding the Fire Nation Royal Palace and the procession halted briefly as the resplendent and decorative gates were slowly opened. 

Despite the dread building in her, Katara couldn’t help but feel in awe of the extravagance surrounding her. In her wildest dreams, she had never thought she would see anything like this.

The last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe had made it to the heart of the Fire Nation.

* * *

Well, this was familiar. 

Katara slumped against the wall of her prison cell, glaring through the bars on the opposite wall. The soldiers had taken her to the dungeons and thrown her back in a dank room. She pressed her tender back against cool brick walls that ease the tension from her muscles and the heat from her skin. Her new cage brought in more light than the one on the ship but she no longer can feel the calming lull of the ocean. The blood on her wrists had dried but any movement of her wrists seemed to reopen the wounds. So she sat as still as possible, trying to not think. Her stomach rumbled but she willed it to stop. The soldiers gave no indication on how long she was stuck here. Or if they had any intention on feeding her. All she had to wait for was the Fire Lord to decide to send for her. If he ever did. 

So she waited. 

And glared. 

Definitely familiar.

* * *

Hours passed before she heard the echo of a door opening in the distance and heavy boots striding down the corridor. A guard emerged into her vision, his skull masked face directed towards her. He dropped a bowl of gruel through the bars. The contents spilled, splattering the grimy concrete. She cast her eyes to the floor, refusing to look him in the eye.

“I don’t know why that Commander kept you alive. You nasty savages should have been wiped off the face of this world years ago. You don’t deserve to be locked up in here, eating our food. No matter. I’m sure the Fire Lord will find some entertaining way of ending you.”

Katara heard a strange, wet noise and felt something cold splash across her face. Grimacing, she realised the guard had spat a globule of saliva at her. Revulsion washed through her, bringing nausea back to her stomach but she didn’t move. She knew his eyes were still trained on her and she won’t give him the satisfaction of her reaction to his revolting action.

“Welcome to the Fire Nation, waterbender.”


	3. Solitude

Iroh couldn’t have been having a more peaceful morning. The Palace gardens were deserted, leaving him alone with the scent of blooming fire lilies and sounds of frolicking golden minnows, barely disturbing the surface of the central lake. Sun warmed his back, causing heat to course through his veins. He took a deep breath in, allowing the calming sense of power and security to flow through him. After a few days back at the Palace, he appreciated this moment of isolation. A squawk broke through the serenity as two turtleducks shot past him, racing towards the pond. Iroh chuckled as he watched the two birds crash landing into the cool waters. No sane person had ever claimed that turtleducks were graceful fliers. These two appeared to have the combined elegance of a komodo rhino as their ungainly wings splashed up water. 

Iroh sighed. Lu Ten would have enjoyed this moment of peace. Unfortunately, his son would still be out on a campaign in the colonies for another few months. Iroh hadn’t seen him since leaving the mission a few weeks ago, to return to the Palace for some impending logistics meetings. Iroh had been lucky. The war had not yet stolen the ease of his only son’s laugh, nor the brightness in his eyes. Many had not been as lucky. He had seen the aftermath of the tragedies of war and it was one of the few things that brought terror to the general. The inevitably of loss or despair claiming some of Lu Ten’s innocence and joy was a grave likelihood that grasped at Iroh’s heart. 

Generations had passed with no end in sight of the fighting and suffering that war brought to the lives of the Fire Nation citizens. His citizens. His people. Iroh sometimes wondered whether his grandfather ever could have suspected the length of time his bid for power would consume the world for. Perhaps Sozin had thought that a resolution of power would be achieved within a decade, maybe two. But this war had survived him and appeared to be closing in on surviving his son. Fire Lord Azulon was as ruthless and power hungry as he had been in his prime but his strength and wits were slowly, very slowly, starting to fail him. And then it would be Iroh’s turn to attempt a resolution to the century long war. Conflict was a fickle being. Maybe the war would outlast Iroh himself. 

That was not a thought to dwell on however. Azulon had called him back to the Palace for a series of war council meetings, specifically to determine the next few moves against the Earth Kingdom. The impenetrable stronghold of Ba Sing Se was still yet to be conquered but there had been growing success in more of the Earth Kingdom’s colonies and a large scale strike against the capital was impending. Victory against Ba Sing Se would form a tipping point in the war that would certainly lead to a Fire Nation victory and end the suffering on both sides. 

Further discussions were expected to be had on the outlying domain of the Northern Water Tribe. However, they posed less of an urgent problem for the war council. The Northern Water Tribe had refrained from becoming entrenched in the central conflict spreading across the Earth Kingdom, preferring to strengthen their own defensive position. Their sister tribe in the South had been rendered useless over the last century, with continued raids ravishing their resources and removing their fighters. And yet, the Northern Water Tribe had distanced themselves, remaining hidden behind the surrounding icy glaciers and gruelling conditions. The Fire Nation had not attempted to penetrate their arctic realm in more than half a century, prioritising the subjugation of the larger and advantageous position of the Earth Kingdom. 

Bringing himself back to the moment, Iroh watched the turtleducks playing in the lake. The appreciation for the peace in front of him banished the thoughts of war from his mind. Even if only temporarily. The Crown Prince of the Fire Nation would be unable to keep those thoughts at bay for long.

* * *

Katara stirred, wincing as the shackles moved against her wrists. A scuffling noise brought her senses back to the present and she tilted her head trying to find the source of the interruption. A small black body scurried into her peripherals. The elephant rat paused, raising an elongated snout in her direction. Katara held her breath as the creature observed her, not wishing to alarm a new acquaintance. A few sniffs and the elephant rat returned to its goal, moving towards the scattered slop on the prison floor. She watched as it ravenously cleaned up small pools of the mess left by the soldier. At least something got to eat it. Eventually the little beast was full and abandoned her, exiting through the bars at the front of her cell. Her head fell back against the wall as she returned to the unwelcome solitude.

* * *

Roused by the desire for a cup of tea, Iroh reluctantly abandoned the privacy of the Gardens and entered the Palace. Despite their openness, the hallways brought coolness back to his body and he considers turning back. Sighing, he continued to move through them towards his quarters. The corridors of the Fire Nation palace were laced with the radiant colours of maroon and gold, symbolising the sovereignty and essence of the Royal Family and the Fire Nation citizens they represented. As he nears his quarters, hurried footsteps reached his ears. A soldier sporting the marks of a lieutenant approached him and bowed deeply. 

“General Iroh, may I have a moment of your time?”

Iroh simply nodded at him to continue.

“My name is Lieutenant Yao. I have just arrived back in the Fire Nation this morning with the Southern Raiders.”

Iroh raised an eyebrow. “I had heard that the Southern Raiders had docked earlier but I’m a little surprised. I would have thought any urgent matter would have already reached my ears before your arrival.”

The other soldier visibly flinched. “I wouldn’t say this was considered urgent by most standards. Our last raid on the Southern Water Tribe was successful and we acquired the last waterbender from their tribe.”

“I was under the impression that there were no remaining waterbenders from the South.”

“That was our understanding as well sir,” Yao explained. “But we received word that there was one that had been overlooked in previous raids and this was proven to be true when we arrived there a few weeks ago.” 

“So where are they now?”

“They are currently in the Palace’s prison and are expected to be brought before the Fire Lord at any moment.”

A slight moment of confusion flashed across Iroh’s mind at the expression on the soldier’s face. There was something he was not understanding here. It was depressing to think that the last waterbender of a proud tribe had been captured but the occurrence of this was inevitable in this war. “Well Lieutenant, would that not be cause for celebration? I imagine my father will be most pleased to hear this news.”

Yao sighed as he spoke, his eyes cast downwards. “The last waterbender is a seven year old girl.” 

Iroh felt his blood run cold. Too young. That was too young. 

“Why have you come to me with this information?”

* * *

_Those eyes. Harsh, emotionless depths trained on her. He towered over her, almost blocking her view of her mother crouched on the floor behind him. Panic surged through Katara and she could barely hear her mother‘s voice over the pounding in her ears. Her mother calmly asked the man to let her daughter go and she’d give him the information he wanted. His thin lips creased as he derisively sneered down at Katara._

_She gulped, a lump in her throat refusing to budge. She tried to focus on the sinister words directed towards her but struggled to concentrate on anything other than the fear the cruel voice induced in her body, chilling her blood and causing her limbs to freeze up. Through the fog, she heard the man tell her to listen to her mother and get out of here. Something was wrong here. Why was her mother so calm? Katara told her that she was scared. Her mother smiled at her reassuringly and explained that she needed to go and find her father. That she could handle this situation. Katara looked up at the Fire Nation soldier’s eyes, cold and threatening. She didn’t want to leave. But she also did. She wanted to run as far as she can from those eyes, that frightening stare._

_Her legs regained motion and she ran. She ran as fast as she can. Gasping on the icy air, she pushed herself faster than she has ever run before. The screams and clangs of weapons colliding are deafening. A bright flash erupted at the corner of her eye and the wall of the igloo beside her exploded outwards, forcing her to leap forwards out of its path. All she could see in front of her was fire and blood. The smell of charred flesh and iron was overwhelming. She couldn’t see Sokka. She couldn’t see her father. This was too much. She couldn’t find her father in this chaos. She couldn’t stay here. She looked behind her, back towards home. Something in her gut told her that she needed to go back there._

_Pausing and waiting for an injured Fire Nation soldier to stumble past her, she picked herself up. As she went to move, she tripped on an abandoned spear and clutched her leg for a moment before pulling herself up again and racing back towards her home. Towards her mother._

* * *

A thunderous bang shocked Katara awake, with the realisation that she had allowed herself to doze off. She raised her head and looked out into the dimly lit passage past the bars of her cell. Flames flared up in the lamps surrounding her cell, alerting her to the presence of a number of soldiers approaching her. She expected to feel more panic bubble up within her, but this time there was barely any. A sense of resignation passed through her. There was no doubt in her mind. 

She knew why they were here.

* * *

If not for the ominous reason for her being marched through them, Katara would have found the hallways to be amusing. The view was ridiculous. There was no reason for a corridor to be this extravagant. Gold and maroon surrounded her, suffocating her, the awnings and carpet created from material far more luxurious than she could had ever imagined. The blatant display of ostentatious wealth threatened a giggle to bubble up in her throat. Her concern evaded her for a blissful moment as she thought of how Sokka would have reacted to the sight of this opulence. He would have made her laugh with some comment of how snobbish the residents of this place must be. However, this moment was fleeting and the dread that evaded her earlier started to fester with each advancing step. 

As they passed each torch lining the sides of the hallway, the flames within them spiked, gaining strength from the passing of the men shepherding her. The soldiers were silent and she was marched at a pace slightly too fast for her shorter legs. But she kept pace with them, trying to remember each piece of advice Yao had given her for meeting the Fire Lord. Bow low to the ground, until your forehead is touching it. Wait to be spoken to. Do not waterbend. Be polite. Stay calm. Do not waterbend. The memory of Yao warmed her and she took a deep breath, slightly shaky but ultimately helpful in quietening the sound of her heart pounding. 

She felt the pace slow down and raised her head to gaze at looming pillars, with layers of zig-zagging patterns encompassing them. The pillars framed a magnificent arched doorway covered by a heavy curtain, the fabric proudly bearing the symbol of the Fire Nation. Flames spiked above the doorway, emulating the torches littered around the open chamber. Two powerfully armoured guards stood to each side of the door, their gaze firmly directed ahead of them. Neither them, nor the soldiers with Katara acknowledged one another. She barely had had time to take in her surroundings before the soldier in front of her split the curtain, sweeping it to both sides of the entrance and suddenly they were in the Throne Room. 

The first thing she noticed was the intense heat, stifling her senses and causing her whole body to react with the immediate discomfort. She felt her pupils dilate uncomfortably, battling with the overwhelming amount of fire surrounding her. The room was beyond any size she could have dreamed of. Her entire village could have fit within the vast chasm of space spread out in front of her. The ceiling was as high as the room was wide and grand columns reached for it like brutal, unyielding stakes. Eventually her eyes adjusted enough to determine the source of the suffocating heat. Stretched out in front of her was a wall of fire, raised above the rest of the room and obscuring an ornate throne. She could see the outline of a shadow through the flames and the comprehension of the source of that shadow was the moment her panic decided to break back through her senses.

Dragging her forward, the soldiers to each side of Katara brought her closer to the throne and forced her down. Her knees viscously connected with the polished tiles spanning the floor and she bit back a wince. Remembering Yao’s words, she leaned forward and braced on her forearms, pressing her forehead to the ground. The floor was still unsettlingly warm but less so than the rest of the room and she focussed on this, allowing the slight easement in heat to try and comfort her. Breathe. Just breathe. A few shallow inhalations brought her wits back to her and she strained to hear past the diminishing thumping of her heart beat. 

Through the mist lessening in her mind, she heard the flames hiss and someone began to move. The footsteps were slow and unruffled, like the source of them was purposively stretching out the time it took them to arrive at their destination. Moments passed, and her heart rate swelled as the motion grew closer to her. A shadow crossed in front of her face as the noise stopped. She felt his gaze burning through the back of her head and it took all her control to not whimper. A quiet, rasping, and yet authoritative voice assaulted her ears telling her to rise.

Slowly, not wishing to make any sudden movements, she lifted her forehead from the ground and her body up from her knees, willing them to stop shaking. Gulping, she forced herself to raise her eyes and look up at the dark figure looming over her. Intricate black and crimson robes, bordered by gold linings covered the Fire Lord’s body, angled upwards and revealing a thin, severe face with long, white hair. A slim beard and moustache outlined a stern, frowning mouth sitting below piercing amber eyes, the eyes a stark contrast to the shadowed and wizened features they were set into.

“What do we have here?”


	4. Decision

“So. You’re the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. Not particularly impressive, are you?”

The Fire Lord’s words were cruel and mocking. Unsure whether she needed to respond, Katara nodded slightly and directed her eyes to the floor. Breathe. Keep calm. Breathe. Keep calm.

“What’s your name, girl?”

“Katara, sir.”

“How old are you?” The Fire Lord began to pace in front of her. Controlling her desire to flinch, Katara kept her eyes trained on the floor, mindful of Yao’s advice. She could not make a mistake.

“Seven, sir.”

“Do you know why you are here?”

“No sir.”

“I’ve been informed that you attacked one of my commanders. Using waterbending.” She didn’t answer and the Fire Lord continued, a sneer coming through in his tone. “I’ve never really liked water tribesmen, bunch of uncultured savages.”

She knew he was trying to get a rise out of her, provoking her into a stupid attack that would end her. So she just focussed on breathing. Stayed calm. Being polite. 

“Yes sir,” her voice was shaking, betraying the nerves that overran her entire body. 

“Speak up child,” Azulon barked at her.

“Yes sir.” Stronger this time. Clearer. Refocussed. Calm. 

“I especially do not tolerate waterbenders. It’s a curiously weak form of fighting. There is no structure to it. You need access to your element or you are rendered useless. Pathetic.”

“Yes sir.”

“I’m surprised that your culture has sustained a century’s worth of war. Clearly through no concerted action of your people.”

Katara watched as his feet stopped pacing and arrived in front of her vision. She could tell that he was getting bored of his game but didn’t know what else she could do to remain safe in this situation. Swallowing down a lump past a tight blockage in her throat, she raised her eyes to look up at the formidable man facing her. She noticed a small, imperceptible twitch in his jaw as he glared down at her and it took every inch of control in her body to not cower, shudder or remove her eyes from his unwavering stare.

“So, back to my question. I heard you waterbended at my Commander. Why would you do that?”

* * *

_All she could think of was to run. Run from the horror unfolding behind her. Run towards the security of home and her mother’s smile. She heard piercing screams erupt over the obnoxious sounds of crashing metal from the battlefield she had left, a cacophony of sound that destroyed the tranquillity in her association of peace with her home. Katara felt the tears streaming down her face as she neared her home, rivers of warmth contrasting the chill in her lungs and the snow falling on her ears. She was close. A few more steps and she’d be safe again._

_She surged through the canvas door of the igloo with a cry that caught in her throat instantly at the scene spread out before her. As before, he turned to her, his black eyes piercing into her soul with a look of cruel pleasure that she didn’t understand and didn’t want to. This was not real. What she could see could not be true._

_A moment before the reality of the view struck her as hard as a terrified and protective polar bear-dog and that caught cry became a blood-curdling scream._

_A moment of blissful uncertainty before her entire world dissolved in tears, pain, snow and darkness._

* * *

Azulon observed a slight blankness to the girl’s face. Curious. After a moment, she returned her vision to his and he noticed barely concealed pain in her eyes. Before she had a chance to answer his question, his concentration was interrupted by a commotion near the entrance to the Throne Room. He directed a furious glare towards the guards standing there but was more than a little surprised when his son was the source of the disruption and the object of his anger.

He scowled at Iroh who approached and bowed deeply.

“I need to speak with you.”

Azulon did not abandon his glare. “You can see that I am busy, Iroh. Can it not wait?”

“I apologise. But no, this cannot wait.”

He considered Iroh for a few moments, noticing how determined his son looked. This should be good.

“Very well.” Azulon turned to his guards. “Take the waterbender back to her cell.” 

Azulon watched as the girl is hauled from the Throne Room before turning back to his eldest son with a wry expression on his face.

“As you were probably aware, I was a little preoccupied. So pray tell me, Iroh, what could possibly have caused you to interrupt me with such urgency?”

* * *

“Iroh, I do not think you know what you are dealing with here.”

“She’s just a little girl.”

“Did you hear what that little girl did?”

Iroh looked at his father, uncertainty pooling in his stomach. Azulon’s eyes contained a glimmer suspiciously close to amusement and for the second time today, Iroh felt he was missing something. That was not a feeling he was well acquainted with and he was not enjoying his experience with it so far.

“No, Father. However, I imagine you are about to inform me nevertheless.”

Azulon spoke, and yes, Iroh could definitely hear a bemused tone in his voice. “She created a small snowstorm and brought an entire igloo down upon the Commander of the Southern Raiders.”

A realisation hit Iroh. “You’re impressed.” 

“It’s impressive.” Azulon shrugged. “Being amused by what happened doesn’t stop me from having to deal with this.”

“She’s still a child.”

“That is true. But it doesn’t stop her from being dangerous.”

Iroh could feel his father’s eyes assessing him as he pondered how to respond. The old man’s amusement was a sign that this situation may not be as utterly hopeless as he first assumed it would be. As he presumed it must be when Lieutenant Yao had informed him who the last waterbender was. However, Azulon had a history of being unpredictable and he would need to be very cautious about how to approach this. Considering his options, Iroh tried another tactic.

“Is Yon Rha still the Commander of the Southern Raiders?”

“He is.”

“I imagine he has some requests on her punishment.”

“He does.” Azulon responded. “Some are a little inventive, even for him. He appears to be trying to save face. There may be some embarrassment mixed in with his anger.”

“Are you inclined to listen to him?”

“Spit it out Iroh. I can tell you have thoughts on this. Just ask what you want to ask.”

“I want a chance to raise her. Here. In the Fire Nation.” Iroh watched his father’s eyebrows rise. “A waterbender could be incredibly useful to us.”

Azulon scoffed. “Come on then, why would she be useful to us?”

Iroh took a breath and chose his words carefully. “For a start, many waterbenders are renowned healers. We have hundreds of soldiers coming back with injuries that could be treated better with waterbending than some of the methods we are currently using. If she presented with that skill, she could be trained to help.” 

When his father didn’t immediately interrupt, Iroh continued. “She could provide a practising partner for your grandchildren. What better way to practise firebending than against someone skilled in the same bending their enemies may attack them with?”

“You’re suggesting training her. A child who can already create a snowstorm. In the bending form of one of our enemies,” Azulon responded dryly. “That seems to be a recipe for disaster.”

Iroh thought it was time to change tactic again. And possibly receive an answer to the question that had been burning at the back of his mind for the last few minutes. “Did the Commander tell you why she reacted in such a violent manner?”

Azulon pursed his lips. “He had just killed her mother.”

“Oh Agni!” Iroh gasped. “And she saw him do it?”

“From what I have been told she arrived just after he had finished.”

Iroh breathed out slowly and pleaded his case. “Her reaction does not seem like a dangerous child. That seems like an enormous expression of loss and pain being reflected in one’s bending. She could still be trained.”

“And you are proposing allowing people from the Nation that killed her mother to train her?”

“I’m proposing that I train her.”

Azulon huffed a laugh. “You?” 

“You have already said you want me to stay at the Palace in the near future to prepare for a possible siege against Ba Sing Se. I will be here. I can train her. If she trusts me, there is no reason to think that she will be dangerous,” Iroh responded, forcing to keep his expression calm and certain of his decision. His father’s expression indicated he was actually considering Iroh’s proposal and tried to restrain any hope building in his chest.

“You would be responsible for her,” Azulon continued as Iroh nodded. “I do not want her fighting my grandchildren until you have convinced me that she is well behaved. Those water tribe peasants can be savage. As much as I feel Azula would put her in her place either way, Zuko is weak and prone to mistakes. I’m not certain that he could handle an unpredictable and dangerous novice waterbender. Even one as small as this one.” 

Iroh had controlled a wince at the insult directed at his nephew while he listened to his father. But that feeling of hope had bloomed into an actual realisation that, at least at this moment, Azulon appeared to be pardoning the girl. 

“Thank you Father. I will not let you down.”

“You better not. I am going to be forced to have an awkward conversation with a very annoyed and already embarrassed Commander. This move has the potential to make me look weak,” Azulon expression grew stern. “Do not make me look stupid too.”

“I will not Father.” 

“Your brother is not going to be happy about this.” Iroh definitely caught a twinkle in Azulon’s eyes. 

“No I doubt he will. I imagine Ozai will not see this as the opportunity that I do.”

Azulon snorted. “I imagine he will not at all.” 

A moment of shared amusement passed between father and son. Ozai was expected to return from a mission in the outlying colonies in a few months. His brother was likely to be incredibly displeased with the Fire Lord’s decision. Which would mean Iroh would need to brace himself for the inevitable barrage of opinions on the matter and hope that was the only form Ozai’s disapproval would take. 

“Fine. I expect updates. But heed my words Iroh. If she steps out of line, she will no longer be your concern.” 

With a wave of his hand, Azulon dismissed his son. Iroh bowed, turned on his heel and left the Throne Room. Unable to believe his luck, he paused outside the curtain, breathed in and strode towards the prison.

* * *

Deciding they were now friends, Katara watched her elephant rat scurry across the cell floor. Her heart rate had calmed back down after her interaction with the Fire Lord. She was still confused about what had happened at the end. However, no one had said she was to be punished today when they returned her to her cell. Evidently, she had somehow managed to survive an introduction with the most powerful and dangerous man in the world. She had not been restrained this time, adding to her uncertainty. The lack of shackles was unexpected but as she observed the tiny animal as it investigated a patch of debris gathered in the corner of her prison, she couldn’t feel unhappy that she had been granted a reprieve, even if it would only be a temporary one. She was still alive.

The elephant rat suddenly tilted its tiny head to the side, before bursting out of the cell raising dust in its haste. Katara tensed and once again watched the flames in the torches before her flicker and intensify as it did whenever a firebender enters the prison. She couldn’t help but feel confusion rise within her as the man that approached her was not a soldier or a guard. It was the man from the Throne Room who interrupted her interrogation. He opened the cell door without hesitation, calmly moved towards her within the cell and crouched down a couple of feet away from her. The jovial smile on his face reached his eyes and creased them around the outward corners in a way that instantly put her at ease. 

“It’s nice to see you again, child. My name is Iroh. Would you tell me your name?”

As she looked up at him, his smile broadened and she felt a small spark of burgeoning hope. “My name is Katara.”

“That is a beautiful name. How would you like to get out of here, Katara?” He must have picked up on the confusion that rose within her because he continued without her responding. “I have asked if I can look after you while you live in the Fire Nation rather than you staying in prison.”

“So I can’t go home?” Katara watched as the smile fell from Iroh’s face for an instant and his expression became one of sympathy, his eyes full of concern.

“I am afraid not, my dear girl,” he responded carefully. “It is a condition of your release that you remain in my custody and under my tutorage. I am sorry.”

* * *

Iroh waited patiently as the small girl in front of him thought through what he had said. He fought to keep a smile from creeping back onto his face as he watched her thoughts play out on her face, reminding him of his nephew. Zuko was never good at hiding his emotions. A trait of which had often gotten him in trouble with his sister who, despite her age, had already begun to master the art of manipulation. Unfortunately for Zuko, he appeared to be the main victim of her practising. 

Katara’s eyes were cast to the side and he could see a slight twitch of her jaw as she pondered the decision he had given her. Eventually, the girl looked back at him and a tentative smile emerged onto her face.

“I would like to go with you. I don’t like cells.”

Iroh huffed out a laugh. “I imagine you would be a little sick of them by now.”

Katara nodded vigorously, dark strands of her hair falling into her face. “Is there food in the Palace?”

“Well yes there is. Shall we go and get some?”

Following more nodding from the little girl, Iroh smiled at her and reached out a hand. After barely a moment’s hesitation, Katara grabbed his large, calloused hand with her tiny one. For the first time since she had seen flakes of ash fall from the sky and darken the white snow of her home, a grin spread out across Katara’s face. Iroh helped her regain her footing.

Together, they left the desolate cell clutching each other’s hand with smiles on their faces, neither looking back.


	5. Collision

Iroh looked on in bemused shock as Katara emptied her second bowl of rice. Previous instructions to slow down had only been followed for mere seconds before the child would pick up speed again, only pausing to chew a few times before swallowing down mouthfuls. For such a small girl, there appeared to be a cavernous hole in her stomach. 

When they had reached his dining area and ordered food for her, Iroh had been unsure whether plain rice would be satisfying but was even more unconvinced that standard Fire Nation food wouldn't cause her stomach to protest. However, Katara had shown no sign of being upset about the bland food.

“Katara, you’re going to make yourself sick, take a break please.”

Sulking blue eyes met his as she reluctantly lowered her chopsticks. Iroh couldn’t hold back a smile at the barely contained frustration being expressed in front of him. Apparently it didn’t matter which culture they were from, children did not appreciate being told what to do.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you Sir.”

“Iroh, please just call me Iroh. Or Uncle, that would work as well.”

She nodded and looked back down at her almost empty bowl wistfully. Questioning eyes returned to Iroh’s after a moment. 

“How about you finish the bowl and we find someplace for you to sleep? It will take another day to arrange a room for you to stay in, would you mind sleeping in a makeshift bed in my room tonight?”

Nodding, Katara looked around. “Is your room near the kitchen?”

“Kitchen?”

“Am I not eating next to the kitchen?”

It takes a moment for Iroh to understand her confusion. “No child, this is my dining area in my wing of the Palace. My room is just through that door.” He indicates behind him and watches the dawning realisation on her face.

“This is all yours? You get to live here?”

“I do. There are some spare rooms in this wing too, one of which will be yours.”

Katara seemed to have recovered from the shock and a small grin spread across her face, humour dancing in her eyes. 

“I get my own room?” she said, delighted. “Oh, Sokka would be so jealous, he doesn’t even get his own room now.”

“Sokka is your brother?”

“Yes, he’s two years older than me and wants to be a warrior. He tells the funniest stories,” Katara’s expression grew a little sad at the memory of her brother. “I miss him a lot.”

Iroh placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a reassuring smile at the young girl. “I’m sure you will see him again. If you are good, we may be able to get a letter to your family to let them know that you are okay.”

Composed eyes looked up at him. “I can be good,” Katara said.

* * *

If the sight of Iroh’s dining area was daunting enough, the view of Iroh’s bedroom bewildered Katara. How was it that only one person slept in here? Iroh’s room was larger than her family’s igloo, with lofty ceilings and a vast open floor plan drenched in the Fire Nation colours of gold and maroon, mirroring the rest of the Palace but somehow transcending even the luxury she had already witnessed. An enormous bed dominated one corner of the room, twirled pillars standing from each corner and supporting a lavish canopy that draped down creating waves. Luxurious couches were clustered in another corner, framing a small table and an ornate wooden desk filled a further corner. But that is not what caught Katara’s eyes, causing her to suck in a breath in awe. 

Near the couches were ceiling-high curtains framing expansive windows that opened onto a balcony. Katara felt the warm breeze hit her face as she moved towards the open air and gasped as the view of the Fire Nation’s capital city came into view. Her march through the streets earlier that day had given very little perspective on the size of the Caldera but from here, as she stood on the balcony, she could see it all. And it was breath-taking. Houses splayed out in front of her like blooming flowers, their crimson peaks merging into a wave of colour. The edges of the city bled into the depths of the surrounding volcano and from here, Katara could see the sheer scale of the raised land encompassing the city. The city was bathed in an orange glow as the sun slowly descended towards the ocean beyond its limits. Behind her, she could hear Iroh speak quietly to someone but she couldn’t drag her eyes from the view.

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Iroh approached on her left and she faintly nodded in response.

They stood there in silence, watching the sunset for longer than Katara knew. She didn’t notice as the light disappeared from the view and small fires dotted the landscape. The Fire Nation citizens were settling in for the night, lamps and fires being lit within their homes. 

A yawn escaped Katara and eventually, she turned to Iroh.

“I imagine you would want to get some sleep after the day you’ve had?”

Her further yawn caused an amused grin to cross Iroh’s face and he extended an arm towards the bedroom behind him. As she walked back into the room, Katara noticed a second bed had been moved into the corner next to the couches and a sudden wave of exhaustion flooded through her. Iroh directed her to yet another room extending from the bedroom where she washed up and pulled on some loose silk clothing that awaited her. Sinking into the softest bed she had ever experienced, and quietly exchanging polite goodnights with Iroh, Katara couldn’t help but feel a little contented. 

This feeling was unfortunately ripped from her after a few minutes when deafening sounds erupted from the bed next to her. She turned towards the interruption of her blissful state and watched for a few moments as Iroh, splayed out on his back, snored loudly. She pulled one of the pillows littering her bed over her head and breathed. It didn’t take long for her exhaustion to engulf her and Katara fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Katara didn’t wake till long into the following day, her sleep not being hindered due to the heavy curtains remaining mostly closed throughout the morning. When she eventually returned to consciousness, all she felt was the welcomed heaven of soft bedding encircling her aching body. She lay there for a while, just enjoying the peace the sleep had brought her. Eventually, she pulled herself upright and looked around the room. She could see Iroh through a gap in the curtains, sitting on the balcony reading though some papers. Stretching, she dragged herself from the bed and stumbled a little as she moved through onto the balcony to join him. 

At the interruption, Iroh raised his head with a wide grin on his face and placed his papers down on a small rounded table next to his chair. She blinked at the intrusion of light and rubbed her eyes before smiling back at him.

“I was wondering when you would return to the world of the living. How did you sleep child? Are you hungry?”

“Very well, thank you. And yes please. My stomach appears to have forgotten the rice from yesterday.”

“Sit down please,” Iroh said, pulling a second chair closer to the table and gesturing towards it. Once Katara had sunk into the inviting seat, Iroh headed back into the room and she could hear him speak to someone by the door. Shortly, a plate of fruit and buns were brought in front of her along with a second tray with an elaborate teapot and a second cup. Swirling white and gold patterns covered the beautiful kitchenware and Katara couldn’t help herself from running a finger over the elaborate design, regretting her decision almost immediately as the warmth from the teapot burned her skin.

“They are gorgeous, I have never seen anything decorated so intricately.”

“Do you drink tea back at home, Katara?”

“Oh yes, my Gran Gran loves tea. I’ve never drunk tea from something so precious though,” Katara answered, moving her finger to trace the pattern on the cooler teacup. 

“To be honest with you, the best tea tastes delicious whether it comes in a porcelain pot or a tin cup,” Iroh mused.

“I like that idea. I enjoy tea, it warms you up in winter and we always drink it with someone else.” Katara moved her finger away from the cup as Iroh lifted the teapot and poured her a full cup of the fragrant liquid. “What type of tea is this?”

“Jasmine, one of my favourites,” Iroh chuckled as he watched her sniff at the soft fumes gathering above the hot tea. “It is refreshing to find a child that enjoys tea as I do. You are a rarity, my dear girl.”

They both sat in shared silence as they watched the people bustling through the streets of the capital. By the time the teapot had been drained, Katara had devoured three buns and half a plate of the fruit laid out in front of her, eliciting a few entertained comments from Iroh. Eventually, she leaned back, completely satiated and sighed.

“Are you ready to see your new room, Katara?’ Iroh asked, watching her with a bemused expression. The beaming smile he received in response was answer enough.

* * *

The room was huge. Not in comparison to Iroh’s but Katara was slightly overwhelmed being faced with a room larger than her family home. A room that was supposed to be hers. She gulped. The decorating colours were more toned down that those that covered Iroh’s walls, less gold and a more muted shade of crimson for the majority of the furniture. She had her own balcony, the view comparable with the one she had just left, a desk and a smaller couch with its own table. A small pile of clothes was folded and placed on a cushioned box situated at the foot of the bed. 

“How do you like it?” Iroh looked a little concerned at the expression on her face.

Unsure how to respond, Katara said the first thing that came to her head. “It’s very large.” When Iroh’s concern deepened, she hastily followed up with “I do like it though! It’s just…bigger than my whole home. Um, thank you for your generosity.” 

This seemed to placate him, especially when she smiled up at him. The rest of the day was a small tour of his wing of the Palace, which caused so many questions to build up within Katara’s mind. Unsure how to approach asking Iroh, she waited till they had returned to his balcony and were drinking their third pot of tea for the day. 

“Iroh, can I ask you a question?” she tentatively started.

Amused eyes met her, a twinkle dancing in them. “Go right ahead. What do you want to know?”

“Why do you have a whole wing of the Palace to yourself?” Katara blurted out. “Is it why the Fire Lord let you take me into your custody?

“Ah, I see…I can imagine that has been very confusing for you. You see…I get some special privileges. I am the Fire Lord’s eldest son and therefore the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.” Iroh explained, watching as her eyes widened and she breathed in harshly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, Katara.”

Silence descended on them for a few minutes, one unsure whether he needed to explain further and one stunned with confusion and a slight amount of horror. The comprehension of who her saviour had been was muddying Katara’s feelings towards the man sitting next to her, patiently watching her.

“So you- you will be the next Fire Lord?” her voice was quiet and trembling as she broke the silence. 

“Yes, I am expected to be.”

She tried to swallow past a block in her throat. Iroh was one step from being the symbol of the war that had afflicted her tribe for a century, had stolen parents from the children of her tribe, and had stolen her from her family.

That image was at complete war with the one of the gentle and jovial figure that had shared tea with her, asked her questions about her family and saved her from certain death. It took a few minutes before Katara made a decision that, at least for the moment, Iroh could be trusted. So far, he had been a helpful ally in this strange place. She needed one of those.

"Okay," she said, voice still a little wavering but much more certain. "I can accept that."

"I am sorry for what this war has taken from you, Katara. War makes victims out of all of us, in one way or another. No one comes out quite the same as who they were before they were dragged into its clutches," Iroh sighs, his eyes containing a thoughtful note. "It pains me that someone as young as you has already learnt this lesson."

Banished thoughts returned to Katara's mind for a split second before she rejected them yet again and hung her head. 

"I am sorry what he did to your mother, that was unnecessary and cruel," Iroh quietly added as she felt the tears well up and fall from her aching eyes. "I wish I could say that most of us are not at all like that but I fear your experiences so far in life may prove me wrong." 

Silence returned to barricade the gap between them again, as each of them retreated to their individual thoughts and memories. Eventually, Katara raised her head, wiped her eyes and faced him. 

"I don't necessarily believe that. But I am willing to believe that you are not like that," her eyes are a little pleading, hopeful that she was right. 

She noticed a slightly uncomfortable expression across Iroh's face but it is fleeting and she couldn't be sure that she had recognised it correctly. They quietly sat and observed another sunset descending on the capital, the serenity being interrupted only for served dinner and even more tea.

After her third yawn, Katara was shepherded to her new room where she cleaned herself up, pulled the loose clothing from the previous night back on and sunk into bed. 

And lay awake.

It was too quiet. Her thoughts were too chaotic and she couldn't banish them for long enough to allow the exhaustion to fill the void. After tossing and turning for more than an hour, tears started to escape her tired eyes. Katara was unable to hold them back after a series of increasingly exaggerated yawns. 

Another few minutes of frustrated tapping of her feet and she reluctantly pushed herself out of bed and quietly padded down the hallway back to Iroh's room. Even before she edged the door open, the sound of Iroh's snoring reaching her ears made her giggle a little. She snuck into the room and was relieved to see her bed still made and inviting set up next to the couches. Quietly she eased herself back into the silky sheets covering the bed and allowed the companionable feeling that she got from the loud snores to finally release her from her exhaustion.

* * *

The next morning brought with it more warming sun, the hum of the city going about its business, tea, fruit and Iroh. 

Iroh was already dressed when she emerged onto the balcony. Any surprise from Iroh waking to find Katara back in his room was not brought up. Their discussion from the previous night was not revisited either. After a shared breakfast, Iroh appeared to be getting ready to ask her something. Eventually, Katara's curiosity got the better of her and she stared at him till he spoke.

"I was wondering if I could leave you to yourself this morning. I have a meeting with one of the ministers I was supposed to see yesterday and if you were okay with it, I've gotten some books from the library for you to entertain yourself with," Iroh explained a little guiltily. He hurried on. "Would that be ok or would you prefer to have some more company around today? I can reschedule of course."

"Could I go exploring?"

"I'm not sure if that is the best idea," Iroh pondered for a moment. "Ah…Actually if you stayed in this wing I imagine that would be fine. Just be careful to not get in anyone's way. Not everyone knows that you are here yet and that could raise some issues."

"I understand," Katara responded.

"Ok then. Be back here for lunch, and have fun. Don’t stray too far."

“I won’t, Iroh.”

* * *

Katara was lost. 

There were too many hallways and they all looked exactly the same. 

She wondered for a moment if there was a map of the Royal Palace that she could ask Iroh for. Not that it would help much at the moment, there were barely any landmarks that stood out enough to be recognisable on a map. Ugh. Was she even still in the same wing? Why did everything have to be covered in the same colours? This was not helping her confusion at all. 

She pushed a heavy curtain aside and stepped through into another corridor. Once again, this didn't help. Her view still looked exactly the same. She walked someway down the corridor and leaned against the wall, sliding down till she was crouched down with her knees pulled into her chest. She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes and tried to think. Iroh was going to be mad at her. She felt guilty at that thought.

A moment later and guilt was not the predominant emotion she felt as she heard footsteps coming. 

Not good. 

She quickly dragged herself back up and started to run in the other direction from the heavy thumping. Where was that damned curtain? The colours merged into one and when she couldn't find the fabric wall she was sure was here a second ago, she was forced to turn the corner and flee down a second corridor. 

This one was longer than the last and she could see nothing breaking the flow of the walls suggesting that there would be a place to hide. As she neared the end and turned the corner, she glanced over her shoulder, trying to see if there was any one who had spotted her...

...and ran straight into something.

Something that cried out as it fell backwards, staring at her with shocked, and then outraged eyes.


	6. Zuko

Zuko was definitely not hiding from his sister. 

Yes, it was warm outside. And yes, he wanted to feed the turtleducks. But it had just happened that he had decided it was a better idea to spend some quality time in the library. Just for a while. It had nothing to do with the fact a certain someone and her friends wouldn't stop haunting the Gardens.

It had been an abnormal few days around the Palace. It appeared to Zuko that all of the adults seemed to know something that he didn’t and they had been in a weird mood since at least the morning before. Zuko couldn't help but think that something bad had happened but his mother had said that there was nothing to worry about. Apparently father and Lu Ten were fine, grandfather was not sick and the Fire Nation hadn't lost any ground in the war. There was nothing to worry about. And yet, his mother wouldn't tell him why everyone was being secretive and she seemed to be purposively oblivious to the fact that he was clearly referring to her as well.

His sister had nevertheless been exhaustive in her teasing yesterday, suggesting that she knew what was going on while he didn't. Azula had followed him around for a good hour in the afternoon, ending with her plonking herself on his mattress when he retreated to his room, while she tried to make him guess what she knew. Zuko wasn't convinced that she knew anything at all, but he couldn't tell. She was hard to read, a skill she appeared to be rapidly improving at. 

Zuko's relationship with his sister had slightly deteriorated in the last few years. They used to exhaustively play with each other, dashing around the Gardens, playing pranks on the guards and hiding Iroh's favourite teapot. 

But that had all gone. 

If he could pinpoint a moment that it had all changed, it would have been when the first flame burst out from Azula’s small fist during a tense argument with their mother. She was determined to not wear a dress that their Uncle Iroh had brought her back from the Fire Nation colonies after one of his missions. Azula was furious because it was pink and at that stage, she had openly hated everything to do with pink. Mother had insisted that she would wear the dress to an event and that it would be very rude and disrespectful to her uncle not to. A cry of frustration had erupted from Azula and the smell of singed fabric had filled the room. Needless to say, she had been unable to wear the offending dress. 

Before this outburst, any sign of firebending from his younger sister had been though small innocuous events, a sneeze as a toddler or a burp as a baby. But this blatant show of her element was where everything changed. 

Zuko had known he was already starting to disappoint his father. His bending had not been very strong, he was clearly not a prodigy and he battled with control and clearing his mind. His tutors had told his father that he tried hard but clearly got frustrated. Father was not interested in a son that tried though. Being told that his son was trying indicated that his son was not succeeding in his lessons. 

Azula was a second chance. And she had delivered. An instant prodigy. She drew the highest praise from Zuko's tutors, their grandfather and then one day, from their father himself. And that was that. From that day, no matter what Zuko did or how hard he worked made no difference. She had surpassed him within two years and continued to improve past his capability. Their history tutor said she had a keen strategic mind, their cultural tutor said her memory was unmatched and their bending tutor would lavish praise upon her every accomplishment. It was impossible to match her.

It didn't matter though. Zuko would continue to train harder and study longer. There would be a day where his father would look at him again with pride and he couldn't give up just because Azula was apparently naturally gifted with everything. Frustrated tearful nights had passed and become more infrequent as Zuko had stuck his head down and worked harder. His father was away in a mission in the colonies at the moment and Zuko was determined to impress him when he got home in a few months. He just wanted his father to be proud of him. He knew he was improving and he was sure his father would see something worthwhile in his achievements. 

See something of worth in him.

Zuko’s mother had tried to convince him that there was nothing to worry about, that his father was just being strict and did love him as much as his sister. Despite the evidence to the contrary, Zuko did appreciate her efforts to make him feel better. That didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed with his mother now. He was still discouraged that even she would not tell him what had happened at the Palace in the last two days though. Why would no one just tell him what was going on?

He could have sworn that everything had been as normal two mornings ago. The Palace had seemed busy, yet calm. Zuko had wandered around in the morning, sneaking out to the Gardens. However, when he had reached the serenity of the Gardens, he had observed his uncle standing alone by the lake looking wistfully into the lake. After a moment watching him, Zuko had decided to leave his uncle alone. 

Uncle Iroh had only been back a few weeks which, apart from Zuko’s aversion to tea, had been a welcomed experience. Uncle had even tried to teach Zuko Pai Sho, saying that Zuko was old enough to begin to learn its strategies. Zuko didn’t really like the game, he wasn’t good at it, he was almost certain his uncle was cheating and it always came with the same stories and copious amounts of tea. But he had missed his uncle and still enjoyed being able to spend him with him, even if it involved a game he continued to lose abysmally at. 

Uncle had appeared to be a little forlorn to have returned without his son though. Lu Ten remained in the colonies on one of the missions dealing with uprising factions in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko’s own father was off leading one of these missions, in a different area to the one that Uncle and Lu Ten had been deployed on. Zuko had only heard hushed conversations about the rebellions in hallways of the Palace and once, when his sister had dragged him to hide behind a curtain at the back of a meeting. But what he had heard was enough for Zuko to be nervous for his family. Uncle hadn’t spoken about the mission other than saying they had been making progress in the area he had been stationed in. Leaving his son had taken a toll though and the look on his face the previous morning had been enough to signal that Zuko should leave him to his peace. 

Zuko had therefore returned this morning to explore the Gardens, only to be confronted by the teasing drawl of his sister and the laughter of her two friends. He had heard the bubbly laughter of one of Azula’s friends following his sister’s voice and it was enough for Zuko to decide he was not in the mood to deal with whatever games they had planned for the day, games that would inevitably be changed to involve Zuko. The previous week had brought a game that ended with a red faced, squawking Zuko sporting singed cuffs and he was not eager to repeat the process. 

Therefore, Zuko had undergone a strategic retreat to the library. He only planned on staying there till lunch. Zuko was sure his uncle would tell him what was different about the Palace and why everyone was acting strangely if he just asked him. But unfortunately he hadn’t seen Uncle Iroh since the morning he saw him in the Gardens. Maybe he could go and visit him after lunch, suffer through another Pai Sho lesson and casually slip in a question about what had everyone on edge.

Zuko had been in luck. The library had been empty when he arrived; most of the Palace occupants were either busy or choosing to remain in their rooms. It was easy enough to find a corner and lose himself surrounded by the familiarity of the slightly musty scent and knowledge of the ancient texts lining the walls. Books and scrolls scaled the walls, heading up towards a brilliantly painted mural that covered the ceiling, the mural detailing key moments in the history of the Fire Nation. 

The newest addition to the mural had been painted over fifty years prior and depicted the last arrival of Sozin’s Comet, named for Zuko’s grandfather, a celestial event which brought the Fire Nation heightened firebending power. His grandfather, Fire Lord Sozin, had used this small window of enhanced power to initiate a battle against the uprising from the Air Nation Army and start the war. Fire Lord Sozin’s goal had been to spread the Fire Nation's state of wealth, opportunity and advancements in technology to the rest of the world. However, from what Zuko had overheard from the adults and gathered from the length of the conflict, the rest of the world had not been very welcoming of the Fire Nation’s mission. 

Zuko had successfully fought off boredom for a few hours by reading through one of the scrolls detailing a myth from the age of the dragons. It was easy to get lost in the stories about the valour of firebenders and their natural companions and these were often Zuko’s favourite stories. Zuko longed for the opportunity to have experienced that connection and the pride from having his own dragon. However, the last dragon had been killed before Zuko was born and this wish of his had been consigned to day dreaming and stories. 

Grumbling from his stomach brought Zuko back from being absorbed in a particularly gripping story of a battle between sibling dragons, one of which was flown by a corrupted firebender. He had reached the part depicting the moment of betrayal between the siblings where the dragon had chosen to align with its rider and the ideology they represented against his own flesh and blood. 

Sighing, Zuko checked the time and saw it was getting close enough to lunch to bother with moving. He snuck the scroll back into its hiding place, in a corner Zuko had kept for his favourite scrolls where they couldn’t be lost or stolen. 

As he left the library, he could hear two ministers browsing next to each other in a parallel aisle. Hovering to see if he could inadvertently catch some clue to what had been going on in the Palace, he was disappointed to find the discussion was regarding a hiccup in the manufacture of some required weaponry. One of the ministers appeared to be particularly concerned about who was to being held to blame over the failure to deliver the shipment on time. That seemed standard enough and not at all the level of gossip Zuko was convinced he was chasing. Disappointed, he huffed and moved out into the hallway, scuffing his feet against the ground for a few steps before remembering himself and walking in a fashion more becoming of a prince and not a sulking boy. 

Wandering down the hallway, Zuko started considering whether there would be any use in checking if the Garden had been vacated or whether it was worth asking the cook for something to feed the turtleducks with after lunch. He could go and visit Uncle after –

What was that? 

There was very little warning. The sound of quick footsteps reached his ears mere seconds before Zuko was bowled over. The motion threw him to the ground in a pile of tangled limbs, bruises and complete shock. The projectile jumped to their feet a moment later and he was stunned to be staring up at a small girl. A second of confusion flashed over his thoughts before outrage flooded his mind.

What was this strange girl doing running around without looking where she was going?!


	7. First Words

“W-what are you doing?!”

The outraged boy spluttered as he looked up at Katara. He had turned a brilliant shade of red, frantically trying to regain control of the situation as he stumbled through his words. Eyes wide and unsure of how to respond to his question, she took a step back and remained silent, trying to look away from the accusing eyes glaring at her. 

“Answer me! Why were you running around without looking where you were going?”

“I-I’m sorry. I got lost and didn’t know where to go,” explained Katara, avoiding his eyes long enough to get out a reply.

A tense moment passed. “But why were you _running_?” the boy asked again, curiosity edging into his voice and tempering the anger emanating from his body.

Unsure how to say that she was running from guards, Katara poorly improvised a response. “Ahhhh…I couldn’t find the opening to get back through to the other hallway…so I panicked and thought if I ran faster I would have more of a chance to find it.”

It wasn’t a good response and she could tell that the boy knew she was lying. The look of accusation reappeared on his face, lips pursing and dark eyebrows furrowing. Nervously, Katara held out a hand to him to help him up, hoping that the gesture might distract him from asking more questions. The boy seemed a little stunned, and he stared at her hand like it was an elaborate trap that he couldn’t quite figure out. 

Katara tried a reassuring smile which apparently confused the matter even further. What was going on? Who was this boy who couldn’t even deal with a basic gesture of kindness? She decided it couldn’t hurt things further to just treat him like she would if Sokka was in the boy’s place.

“Do you want a hand or do you now just live on the floor?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as her smile broadened.

Stunned but still suspicious eyes trained on her face, but the boy gripped her hand and allowed Katara to help him to his feet. Strands of hair had fallen from his ponytail in the kerfuffle and once he had regained his footing and pulled his hand from hers, the boy hastily pushed the strands back out of his face and straightened his clothing. They observed each other quietly, neither knowing what to say.

“Your eyes are too big for your face,” the boy blurted out, instantly reddening again as he realised what he had said. 

“Pfft, at least I don’t have a silly ponytail. It’s not even a warrior’s wolftail,” Katara snapped back, placing her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “Which would make sense, you don’t look like much of a warrior.”

Nothing but broken sounds escaped the boy’s mouth for a few moments before he finally settled on a comeback. “I’m more of a warrior than you, you don’t even look where you’re going AND you are lost. Warriors don’t get lost.”

“I’m not a warrior. But neither are you, you’re definitely too short.”

“You can’t speak to me like that,” the boy responded indignantly.

“I can speak to you however I want to. You’re not the boss of me!”

“Yes I am!”

“Gah, you are so frustrating!” Scowling, Katara stepped closer to the boy and thrust a finger in the direction of his face. “I was going to ask someone for help to point me in the right direction, but I guess it is impossible to find someone polite and helpful anywhere in this stupid building with its hallways that all look so-spirits-damned alike! And I definitely don’t need help from a pompous, ponytailed, rude, little boy who likely doesn’t even know where I am supposed to be either.”

Katara spun on her heel and stormed off. She didn’t need to throw a passing glance over her shoulder to know the boy was fuming, she could feel the glare bore into the back of her head. The air in the corridor felt warmer as she hastily turned the corner and thanked the spirits when she saw a curtain on her right. She was able to dash through the curtain into another corridor before she could even hear the apoplectic boy move from the spot he was frozen, mouth still gaping in shock. 

Once in the next corridor, she quickly walked around the next corner and found herself running again. She ignored the voice in her head saying the boy had a point about looking where she was going. That voice was wrong. She could learn a lesson about running later. Now it was lunchtime and she needed to find her way back to Iroh before he came back and got worried. Or mad. 

Bolting around another corner, she saw a man in the next corridor and halted. Uneasiness reared in her mind and she tried to calmly turn around and head back the way she came, nervousness coursing through her.

“Katara?”

The familiarity of the voice relaxed her and she peeked over her shoulder as Lieutenant Yao strolled down the corridor, smiling uncertainly down at her as he approached.

“What on earth are you doing all the way over here? I thought you were staying in General Iroh’s wing while you adjusted?”

“I may have gotten a little lost,” Katara replied sheepishly, looking at her feet. She tentatively gazed up at Yao to see that his smile appeared to be silently mocking her. 

“Good to know that you have been here for less than two days and you have found yourself in a bit of trouble already,” Yao’s eyes twinkled down at her before turning more serious. “At least you appear to have listened to my advice for your introduction here.”

“Oh yes, thank you, thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without Doctor Pang’s and your advice,” Katara replied. Flushing slightly, she continued. “Um, would you mind helping me find Iroh’s wing? I was meant to meet him back there for lunch.”

“Of course, I’m actually a little surprised you managed to stray so far from his part of the Palace, you clearly got more than a little lost,” Yao winked at her, turned and waited for her to step in line with him before moving back down the hallway from the direction he had come from.

“You are definitely looking better, child. Have you seen Doctor Pang since you arrived here?” 

“No, not yet. I think I saw Iroh’s doctor on the first day after I was brought up from the cells,” Katara noticed a slight flinch from Yao at the mention of cells but it was gone just as quickly. She didn’t think too much of it as she tried to keep up with his longer stride. A thought crossed her mind and she perked up. “Have you seen your daughter yet?”

“Yes I have. A few of us are stationed here for the next month and so I have been able to spend some time with my family,” Yao replied. “I told them about you. I think Liao may want to meet you.”

“Oh I would love that!” Katara thought for a moment before adding, “Do you think I would be allowed to?”

“I’m not sure to be honest. I imagine after you have been here for a while and if General Iroh is happy with your progress, you may be allowed to meet her. I’ll ask General Iroh closer to the time of my next deployment,” Yao mused.

Each of the corridors blended into each other as they walked in companionable silence for a few minutes. Katara struggled to find any distinctive landmarks that could tell her where she was. She really needed to get her hands on a map. Eventually they approached a recognisable door and Yao turned to her, gesturing in the direction of the entrance. 

“I figured you might not want it advertised that you had made it all the way across the Palace in your expedition,” Yao raised an eyebrow as he teased her. “I’ll see you around Katara, I’m glad you are here.”

She beamed up at him, before slipping through the door and hurrying back to Iroh’s room, nodding at the guards that shot sceptical glances at her as she passed them.

Iroh’s room was empty when she entered and she was able to collapse into a chair on the balcony, pulling her knees to her chest while she watched the Fire Nation capital descend into the lunchtime chaos. It was still overwhelming to consider how many people lived in this city but from this vantage point, the view of the masses crowding the streets provided more entertainment than anxiety for Katara. 

Sinking into her thoughts as she gazed out from the balcony, Katara tried to sort through her discoveries of the morning. Firstly, she really needed to find a way to gather her bearings in this Palace. There must be some way that visitors or guests could find their way around. Maybe she would ask Iroh in a day or two if she could be shown around some more of the Palace, hopefully without eliciting suspicions on her endeavours that morning, and try to learn it in sections. 

Also, who was that arrogant boy? Katara didn’t think that there could be too many children around the Palace. Maybe the boy was one of the servant’s children. Or maybe he was a child of a soldier that lived here, rather than in the city like Yao’s family. This Palace was gigantic, there must be room for lots of families to live here. 

It didn’t matter who his parents were though, that boy had terrible manners! If Sokka or Katara had spoken to a stranger like that, their mother would have given them a clip around the head or scrubbing pots for a week. Shaking her head, Katara tried to rid herself of the painful thoughts of her mother and her home. That left her with that frustrating, entitled boy. Ugh. No, while she was at it, his angry glare and babbling outrage could be put out of her thoughts too. 

Iroh interrupted her sulking with the announcement that lunch was on its way up soon and the two chatted amicably over the food and accompanying tea. Both didn’t elaborate on their mornings. As Iroh didn’t tell her what the meeting was about, Katara figured it was ok to not go into any depth as to where she had ended up, skipping over the questions of what she had discovered in her explorations.

* * *

Lunch had been an anxious experience for Zuko. 

By the time he had regained control of his feet and moved to follow that strange girl, it was too late and the next corridor had been empty. After he was able to calm down from his frustration in losing her, Zuko had started to feel embarrassed. He had been put in his place by a girl so small, he was beginning to believe she was standing on her toes when she shoved that accusatory finger in his face. Should he have told someone? Telling someone would seem like the appropriate thing to do having spotted a peculiar child running around the Palace. And yet, Zuko was hesitant. He didn’t know who she was. And the girl didn’t appear to be dangerous; it would be extremely difficult for someone that small to hurt someone. He scoffed to himself, his thoughts turning to his sister and reassessing the danger a small girl could pose. The truth was that Zuko was reluctant to tell anyone who may then ask how he had responded when he ran into her. Explaining that he had allowed a small girl to mock him before storming off and he had done nothing to stop her didn’t seem like a conversation Zuko wanted to have with any of the guards. 

Maybe he could bring it up to Uncle when he visited later today to ask about the weird atmosphere amongst the adults in the Palace. Zuko was sure he would have good advice for what to do about the girl. His uncle talked a lot, which could be exasperating, but did seem to have an uncanny ability to say exactly what Zuko needed to hear when he asked for advice. Sometimes it was a little hard to interpret, or a little wordy but most of the time it helped with whatever problems Zuko was having.

Stress was causing his stomach to tense up, affecting his appetite. By the time he had forced himself to finish half his lunch, Zuko had decided he needed to speak to his uncle as soon as possible. Reclaiming gardens and feeding turtleducks would have to wait. Pushing his plate away from him, Zuko stood suddenly, finally feeling confident of his decision to get some answers. Peculiarly, he felt a cup of tea would help reduce some of the anxiety he felt and that added to his determination to see his uncle as quickly as he could.

Resolutely, Zuko broke out in a run down one of the corridors leading to his Uncle’s wing before the events of that morning returned to him and he slowed down to a brisk walk. It would be unbecoming for a prince to be found behaving in the same manner as disrespectful, undersized girls with ridiculous eyes and rude pointing fingers.

Reaching the doors to the wing his Uncle lived in, Zuko was unimpressed to see that the two guards did not immediately open the doors for him like usually occurred when he visited his uncle.

“What is going on? Why can I not pass?”

“We have been told to not let anyone through to see General Iroh without seeking his permission.”

“Why?”

“We are sorry, Prince Zuko, but we are not at liberty to tell you.”

Zuko stood there a little stunned for a few moments. Seriously, what was going on? Finally, he made up his mind, drew himself up as tall as he could and put on the most authorative tone of voice he could muster. 

“I imagine my uncle would be incredibly displeased to hear that you have delayed his nephew from a scheduled Pai Sho lesson,” Zuko knew he was dancing around the truth but since had already intended to use Pai Sho to draw information from his uncle, it appeared to be only a slight escalation from the original plan. He glared at them and continued assertively. “Let me in!”

Both guards looked at the defiant prince frowning up at them before glancing at each other uncertainly. Eventually, one of them nodded and they both opened the doors behind them, letting Zuko through with a bow and an apology.

He moved through the doors into his uncle’s quarters before taking a deep breath as he celebrated the unexpected victory. Composing himself, Zuko headed towards the dining area, thinking that his uncle may still be eating lunch. Zuko hadn’t been surprised to not see his uncle at lunch because he had heard that one of the war council meetings this morning had run late. He was surprised to find the dining area empty but nevertheless continued on towards his uncle’s bedroom. This whole mission to talk to his uncle was making him feel far more nervous than he expected but he somehow felt that he must be on the right path to find some answers. 

When he reached the doors, Zuko hesitated a moment before knocking and jumping back when a servant exited the room as he was lowering his hand. Zuko noticed a flicker of confusion pass over the servant’s face when they noticed him, before they regained their composure, bowed deeply and opened the door for him, noting that his uncle was on the balcony as he passed them. 

The indecision rising in him was starting to scare him. Zuko was accustomed to feeling a little uncertain when entering his father’s quarters unannounced but had never felt this way about visiting his uncle. But he wanted to know and the pieces of the puzzle had clicked in Zuko’s head. He hadn’t seen his uncle for two days, the guards had been acting strangely and now even a servant had misplaced their usual poker face, even if only for a moment. Surely this meant that his uncle was at least somewhat involved in what was affecting everyone at the Palace. As nervous as it made him, Zuko felt compelled to know what that was.

With another deep breath to compose him, Zuko stepped into his uncle’s bedroom and walked towards the pulled curtains blocking his view of the balcony. Pushing the curtains to the side, he was confronted with an unwelcome sight. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him as their owner was startled by the noise.

“You?! What – what are you doing here?” Zuko exclaimed in incomprehension of what was happening. Why was she here? Noticing his uncle was now looking back at him also with a surprised expression on his face from his own chair, Zuko continued completely stunned by this turn of events. 

“Uncle! Who is this girl? _Why_ is she here?”


	8. A Proper Introduction

“Uncle! Who is this girl? _Why_ is she here?”

With more than a little shock, Iroh glanced between his incensed nephew and the object of his outburst. He was clearly losing his touch. For the third time in three days, he had missed some key development. This one in particular, was very puzzling. 

“Good afternoon, Zuko. Lovely to see you. Have you met our guest before?”

“G-guest?” confused eyes met his as Zuko turned to him. Iroh watched as his nephew’s eyes flicked towards Katara and back to his before his brow furrowed and his expression became a little more concerned. Zuko looked stunned by the revelation and Iroh snuck a look at Katara as he waited for his nephew to continue. The waterbender continued to stare wide-eyed at the boy in front of her and it was becoming apparent that they had definitely met. 

Hmmm. It appeared someone had left a few things out of their recap of the morning. 

“Yes, Katara is our newest resident at the Palace. Am I correct in assuming that you two have met before?” Iroh ventured out, watching the slight blush rising in Zuko’s cheeks. Now curious, he let an eyebrow arch up and watched the colour in his nephew’s face deepen. Turning back to the girl, he noticed an identical expression on Katara’s face. Well, wasn’t this an entertaining turn of events. “Katara? Anything you would like to elaborate on from your adventures this morning?”

Iroh leaned back in his chair as he watched both children avoid his eyes and waited to see which one would speak up first. He was a little surprised to hear Katara’s voice quietly break the silence.

“I-I got a little lost.”

“Interesting, I don’t know if I have heard of anyone getting lost in _my_ wing?” Iroh allowed a bemused note to enter his voice as he watched the girl’s face darken as she focussed on her shoes.

“Your wing?” Iroh watched as Katara whipped around and glared at his nephew’s outburst.

“Oh, did you not meet our guest in my wing?”

No longer oblivious to the girl glowering at him, Zuko’s eyes flashed from his uncle’s to Katara’s and back again before finding his feet as well. Iroh watched as he awkwardly scuffed his left foot against the ground and his hands twitched. As always, Zuko was abysmal at lying and was clearly struggling at not being able to answer his uncle. Iroh sighed and tried a different tactic.

“Katara, I’m not going to be mad. Where did your explorations take you this morning?” he asked.

After a moment, Katara looked up at him. “I’m not actually sure, I got lost,” she answered, frustration creeping into her tone. “There are just so many hallways and they all look the same. I was lost and then I heard something and ran and got more lost and then…” her voice trailed off and she peeked at Zuko out of the corner of her eye. 

Ah. This was starting to make a bit more sense.

“You weren’t looking where you were going,” Zuko said accusingly, glaring back at Katara.

“Well you didn’t have to be so rude,” Katara shot back.

“I wasn’t rude!”

“Yes you were!”

“You ran into me! I was in shock.”

“At least I apologised! Who raised you to think that you could just speak to someone like _that_?”

“You insulted me too. And you stuck a _finger_ in my face!”

“You deserve it, you –“

“Children, that’s _enough_!” Iroh interrupted the bickering and watched as both of them instantly tore their eyes away from each other and scowled in opposite directions. “I feel some introductions may be in order here. Katara, this is Zuko, my nephew.”

Iroh watched as shocked blue eyes reached his and swung to his nephew. Katara went bright red. Ah, so the girl hadn’t clicked the connection between them. Iroh noted that he should endeavour to ask who Katara thought she had run into that morning.

* * *

His nephew? That haughty, rude boy from this morning was related to Iroh. 

But…that meant… _oh no_ …

“So, that makes him a _prince_?” Katara asked in complete shock.

“It does.”

She watched smug golden eyes met hers and indignation flooded through her. “I don’t believe you. He can’t be a prince. Princes are raised to have manners.”

“W-W-What, you _can’t_ say that to me?! I am a prince and you can’t do anything about it.”

“You’re no prince to me!”

“Of course I am!” Zuko was getting more frustrated with every word, she could see the blotchy redness building in his face. The air on the balcony felt like it was getting warmer and her stomach dropped as she remembered a detail from their earlier exchange. 

“Y-you’re a _firebender_?” Katara asked, realisation dawning on her.

“Of course I’m a firebender,” Zuko answered with a huff. “And I _am_ your prince.”

“No you’re not,” Katara repeated, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. The action appeared to confuse the boy and she watched as he turned to Iroh. 

“Uncle? I don’t understand what is going on. Everyone at the Palace is acting strangely and now there is this weird girl…” Zuko faltered as Katara scowled at him, before continuing. “…who doesn’t think I am a prince. What is happening?”

Iroh sighed heavily and cracked a sheepish grin at his nephew. 

“Ah, well you see, there are a few people in the Palace a little unsettled with a request I made of the Fire Lord. A request of which relates to young Katara here,” Iroh explained, as Katara watched the boy’s eyes flicked back to her. “Katara is a waterbender, the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe, and now my ward.”

Zuko’s eyes widened and shot back to Iroh. “So she is going to live here?”

“For the meantime at least, yes she is,” Iroh answered calmly.

Katara knew what was coming, but noticed that to his credit, Zuko appeared to be a bit sheepish about asking. “But…I still don’t understand, aren’t the Water Tribes our enemies?”

“Yes they are, which is why many of the people at the Palace are a more than a little disconcerted by this turn of events. But I put forward a proposal to your grandfather and he is going to allow me to raise Katara here,” Iroh explained. Katara noticed the boy’s shoulders relax as he absorbed what his uncle had said. “You know Zuko, Katara could end up joining you for training in a little while, it could be fun to practise against a waterbender.”

Uncertain eyes focussed on Iroh before staring at her. “I guess,” Zuko answered. 

“So! I’m guessing that was why you have come to visit me, nephew? To find out why everyone was acting strangely?” Iroh chuckled.

“Maybe,” Zuko mumbled as the colour returned to his face. 

“Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way. Should we get some tea and have a game of Pai Sho. If Katara is going to be living here, we should introduce her to the game too and you can show off what you have learnt so far to her,” Iroh winked at the now red-faced boy who was determined to not look directly at Katara.

Iroh’s eyes twinkled as they met hers. “Katara, how would you like to learn a game?”

Glancing at the blushing boy, a cheeky grin spread out over Katara’s face. “Very much, I’m good at games,” she said, smirking at Zuko when he stared at her in horror.

* * *

Ugh, how was there two of them? 

Zuko couldn’t help but be a little perplexed as to how Katara could be enjoying this game as he watched her giggle at one of his uncle’s terrible attempts at humour. Laughter seemed to come easily to Katara, bright and enthusiastic, often without regard for volume or unexpected additions. 

The girl had already snorted _twice_ since they had started playing. Once had been over a dreadful pun his uncle had made regarding tea leaves and once was after Zuko had played a move he thought had won him a strategic advantage to find out he had failed to notice one of Uncle’s pieces. 

On both occasions, the girl had barely acknowledged the apparent slip-up in manners and it had stunned Zuko to see someone laugh without the restraint of the learned behaviours and etiquette that was allowed within the Fire Nation court. As a member of the Royal family, Zuko and his sister had been taught what behaviour was allowed around the Palace and Fire Nation nobles from a young age. 

It was just another thing to add to the bizarre revelations of the day but he was realising it was not an unwelcome addition. Katara also continued to show a blatant lack of respect for Zuko’s position and he had been laughed at and elbowed more than once during the afternoon of Pai Sho, tea and stories from Uncle. 

However, he was finding it hard to stay annoyed at the teasing. 

The laughter and light hearted teasing directed at him, also appeared to be equally directed at his uncle. Uncle was clearly enjoying the exchanges as well, and had laughed as loudly at the girl’s tongue-in-cheek insults as she had been. The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the one Zuko had suffered through the last few days and he was finding it harder and harder to resist the entertainment.

In fact, as he watched Katara take a piece from his uncle for the first time and raise her arms in victory, he couldn’t help but grin at Uncle’s mock devastation. Katara followed this gesture with leaping from her chair to perform what she referred to as a victory lap, giggling as she spun around behind Uncle’s chair. To Zuko’s horror, he found a giggle escape him. Katara blinked in surprise at the noise before before dropping back into her own cackling at his uncle’s dramatic act of disappointment.

“Well I’m glad you two find this whole outrage amusing. I don’t know why I allow you the privilege of playing on such a distinguished board with a master such as myself when all you do is impolitely _mock_ a slight mishap on my behalf,” Iroh huffed, theatrically throwing up his hands. With each enunciated word from his uncle, Zuko descended further into uncontrollable giggles.

“S-sh-she is beating you on her f-first time pl-playing it,” Zuko struggled to get out words through his laughter.

“I would hardly call taking one piece _beating me_ ,” Iroh grumbled as both children laughed harder.

Zuko felt tears escaping his eyes as he watched his uncle's expression crack and break down into his own mirth. He watched as Katara clutched her stomach and leant on his chair. Eventually their laughs resolved into breathless giggles and Katara slumped back into her own chair, winded and wiping her own damp eyes. When she looked over at him, Zuko shyly smiled back and felt a little warmth spread through his stomach when Katara beamed back at him. 

Feeling his uncle's eyes on him, Zuko glanced back at him to observe a happy and contented face. For that moment, everyone in the room appeared to have forgotten their troubles and it was a nice feeling. A well overdue moment of happiness and joy for each of them. 

While watching Uncle and Katara return to their game, their faces lost in concentration, Zuko wondered what series of events had to have happened for Katara to be sitting there playing Pai Sho against his uncle, the Crown Prince, in the middle of the Fire Nation. It didn't seem the right time to ask though and so Zuko just sat, observing the game, enjoying the banter and avoiding the teapot when it was offered to him by a hovering servant.

Each of them had lost track of time. Eventually a servant entered, bowing deeply and suggesting that food could be provided when they were ready for dinner. As they waited for a response, Zuko looked at Uncle uncertainly, trying to suppress the building grumbling in his stomach as his body remembered how long it had been since he had last eaten.

"You are most welcome to stay here for dinner, nephew," Iroh offered. "I can send someone to let your mother know you're here with me?"

Zuko nodded. "I would like that."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Katara looking at him strangely before she smiled again, the smile reaching her eyes. She did that a lot. Smile. It wasn't a common trait in people that looked at Zuko and he noticed that warmth was back.

* * *

Splashes of pink and orange swirled on the horizon as it bathed the view unfolded in front of them in a golden hue. Iroh had excused himself a little while back and unsure what to say, both children had simply watched the sun lazily descend from the sky. Lost in thoughts, it took a while for Katara to feel the curious eyes aimed at her. Twisting her head around, she raised her eyebrow in a silent question as she noticed the prince watching her, a blank expression fixed on his face. Zuko turned a similar shade to the sky as he realised what had happened, the glow from the sky transforming the blush on his cheeks into a radiant mix of warm tones.

“I-I’m sorry. I just- I’ve never seen someone stare as openly at the city as much as you…” Zuko uttered, the colour in his cheeks deepening. “I guess it probably isn’t like where you’ve come from though…”

Katara watched as his voice trailed off, before shaking her head and responded quietly, “No, not at all. My village is nothing like this place.”

Zuko’s face scrunched up before he asked, “Can I ask what it’s like? I’ve only heard a little about the water tribes and it is mainly about the Northern Water Tribe…”

“It’s tiny, especially compared to this. There aren’t many of us left,” Katara responded, a sad smile emerging on her downturned face. “Everything is covered in snow and we all live in igloos or huts made from the ice as well as wood and canvas. It’s always cold but the surroundings are breathtakingly beautiful.” She raised her eyes to see Zuko watching her closely. “I’ve never been to the Northern Water Tribe though. But I have heard stories of the kingdom there. It sounds magnificent, I hope to see it one day. And to see home again…”

Silence descended on them for a few moments, before Zuko broke it with a shy voice, sadness shining in his eyes. “Maybe Uncle can take you back there at some stage?”

“Maybe,” she quietly agreed, a small smile blooming on her face at the boy’s concern. Changing the subject, she asked. “Have you ever left the Fire Nation before?”

A little chuckle answered her query. “No not at all, I don’t really get to ever leave the Palace. I don’t go to the city,” Zuko explained. 

“ _Never?_ ”

“Well we have gone to Ember Island in the Fire Nation for a few holidays…but even that involved a palanquin ride through to the docks,” Zuko answered a little self-consciously. “I imagine I will get to see some of the Fire Nation colonies when I get old enough. But I am a prince, princes don’t get to just run around by themselves…” 

“That’s so sad.”

Shocked eyes swept up to hers. “You feel _sorry_ for me?”

“Maybe you don’t see it, but that seems so lonely to me,” Katara said. When he didn’t respond, she followed up in a more cheerful manner. “I guess I only got to venture outside my village for gathering trips with some people from my tribe…until I came here…so I probably can’t judge you.” She gave him a cheeky smile, feeling better when she noticed that Zuko looked a little less despondent.

“Right nephew, I think it is about time for you to head back to your mother. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of a telling off from Ursa,” Iroh interrupted, eyes twinkling as he observed the startled jumps from the two children at his presence. “You are welcome to come back tomorrow, I imagine Katara will be getting sick of my stories,” he continued, winking at her causing her to giggle.

“I want to come back,” Zuko flushed a little as he responded, standing up and moving next to his uncle.

“Excellent! Now let’s get you back. Katara, I’ll be back shortly,” Iroh said, placing his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. 

Katara waved at them and couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter when Zuko raised his hand to wave in a shy response. Despite the excitement of that morning, getting lost may have caused her to make a new friend and in this place, that seemed to be a rare achievement. As she got ready for sleep and snuck back into the makeshift bed in Iroh’s room, Katara felt a little less lonely and a little more hopeful.

Comforted by these thoughts, she had fallen into a deep sleep long before Iroh returned to the room.

* * *

His uncle had been uncharacteristically quiet as they walked through the halls back toward the quarters where Zuko’s family lived. Zuko had stolen a few glances up at his uncle’s expression as they got closer to his bedroom, impatiently waiting for Uncle to speak what was clearly weighing on his mind. 

Eventually, as they drew near to the guards outside the entrance to his quarters, Uncle turned slowed him down squeezing his shoulder before crouching down facing Zuko. The nervousness flickering across his uncle’s eyes instantly made Zuko’s curiosity dissolve into anxiety. 

“Nephew, I need to ask you a favour,” Uncle waited for Zuko to timidly nod before continuing. “Katara is in a very vulnerable situation at the moment being here. I only ask that you try and not speak about her too much to others, just for the time being…until she has settled in and the people around the Palace are more comfortable with her being here.”

“Why? Is she in danger?” Zuko tentatively asked.

Uncle shook his head, calmly looking at him. The expression on his uncle’s face appeared to be portraying a confidence Zuko was not convinced that he actually felt. “No I don’t think so, Zuko. But I don’t want to put her in any more of a precarious position with the Fire Lord or the court than she already will be. There are some here that are not happy with the decision that both your grandfather and I have made and will be trying to gather information that suggests it was the wrong decision. They will not want to openly express their opinions and speak out against us…but I do not want to give them any ammunition to allow those opinions to fester. Do you understand what I mean? Are you ok with that?” Zuko nodded a little fearfully and his uncle squeezed his shoulder as he stood up. “Thank you, nephew. I hope you two will get along over her time here.”

Uncertainly, Zuko looked up at his uncle. “She seemed nice,” he eventually said.

Uncle smiled down at him before leading him through to his bedroom. There he bid him goodnight, explained he was going to speak to Zuko’s mother and left Zuko to ponder the veiled warning.

Zuko sunk down onto his bed and pulled his knees into his chest as he tried to process what his uncle had said. Uncle had said that Katara was not in danger but his expression didn’t appear to believe that. The exchange had left Zuko confused and a little scared. It didn’t seem right for a child to be in danger. Surely the Fire Nation adults couldn’t hurt a child, even one from another nation. 

He realised that he hadn’t even asked Katara her age, but she couldn’t be any older than Zuko himself. She seemed too small and she had been nice, even if a little teasing. Maybe he could ask Uncle to explain more about it when he saw them again tomorrow.

Tomorrow. 

Banishing the apprehensive thoughts, Zuko felt himself smile as he reminisced about the joy he’d felt watching the game earlier in the day. He longed to feel that again.

For the first time in days, Zuko felt excited about what the morning would bring. As he pulled up the covers and fell into a deep sleep, he felt a welcomed sense of contentment.


	9. A Fish out of Water

Friendship flourished between Zuko and Katara like the first fire lily of spring, hesitant at first then blossoming without restraint.

Two weeks had passed since the awkwardness of their first collision, but Iroh already noticed something special had occurred between the two children. Despite being contradictions in every way, it seemed to Iroh that they balanced each other in completely unexpected ways. It brought happiness to his heart as he watched his confused nephew try and match an animated Katara in her latest game. 

Their differences surpassed the underlying makeups of fire and water. Where Zuko was reserved and polite, emulating the propriety learned through his life in the Fire Nation, Katara laughed without the shackles of a noble upbringing. Where Zuko was a little unconfident, a little unsure, Katara was an unstoppable force, dragging Zuko into new games and discoveries.

For Katara, she seemed to have controlled her explorations, allowing the presence of Zuko to make up for the restriction to Iroh’s wing. There was a spark in the girl that brought startling level of joy to Iroh and the longer he spent with Katara, the more he feared the response from the Palace’s court when she would begin to emerge from the safety of his quarters. The daily visits from his nephew seemed to have reduced the urging from Katara to allow her to spread her wings and he was immensely grateful for this postponement in having to deal with the rest of the court.

The visits appeared to have awakened something wonderful in Zuko as well. At first, Iroh had been a little uncertain how his nephew would cope with the exuberant waterbender. Zuko had continued to look a little shocked and unsure of how to react to some of the light teasing instigated by Katara. Iroh was aware that his nephew had sustained teasing from his sister and had initially harboured reservations that this would affect Zuko’s relationship with the girl, especially considering his nephew’s awkwardness often earned him more bubbling giggles from the girl. 

But despite Iroh’s worries, Zuko kept coming back and Iroh had noticed a shy smile would often emerge on his nephew’s face. 

Iroh longed to see more of that happiness in Zuko. 

For what it was worth, Zuko appeared to be starting to return the teasing, although it was often with a corresponding red face and awkward glances at his feet. Iroh had always suspected how lonely his nephew had been in the Palace but his fast attachment to Katara illustrated that he was appreciating feeling like he was part of something, even if it went against everything Zuko had been brought up to believe in.

Iroh was roused from his contemplation by a specific part of the conversation between the two children. 

“– there was no one to teach me and apparently we couldn’t visit our sister tribe for me to learn,” Katara’s voice contained a note of frustration.

“I can’t imagine not being able to learn firebending…” Zuko said. “So, do– do you know any waterbending at all?”

“Only a very small amount…” Katara said, flushing. “I should practice more.”

“Maybe you could learn here?”

“There aren’t any waterbenders here, are there?” Katara asked uncertainly.

Zuko frowned, brows furrowed as he thought. “Maybe you could teach yourself?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Iroh eased himself out of his chair, causing the two children to jump in their seats. Smiling to himself, Iroh had the sneaking suspicion they had forgotten he was still in the room. 

“I have to head out for a bit, I will be back in an hour or so. Are you both ok staying here?” Two heads nodded at him in unison and Iroh quickly exited the room, making his way for the library.

* * *

“There must be _something_ …” Iroh implored the wizened librarian, who fixed him to the ground with an unimpressed stare. 

“We have a number of recovered waterbending texts…” Iroh raised his eyebrow at the use of the word “recovered” but allowed the faltering man to continue, “…but they wouldn’t be stored here, they would be in the Dragonbone Catacombs. You will need to speak to the fire sages.”

Nodding, Iroh thanked the man, exited the library and made his way to the catacombs. He knew he did not need the assistance of a Fire Sage to enter the sacred tombs below the Palace but had decided a diplomatic approach was best with the already obnoxious librarian.

After meeting with the Fire Sages, Iroh made his way into the heart of the temple. Stepping onto the intricately designed circle situated in the middle of the floor, he took a deep, settling breath and forced his fire downwards. His flames ignited the locking device, causing the hidden entrance below his feet to slowly spin and fashion into a circular staircase, heading below the temple. 

The winding paths guided Iroh to a main hallway. Flickering torches cast a warm glow over the imposing skulls of dragons featured prominently to the sides of the hallway, and revealing portions of the murals lining the walls. As Iroh strode towards one of the metal doors situated around the hallway, the torches closest to him flared, uncovering fragments of his predecessor’s history. Eventually reaching a large metal door, Iroh pushed his chi forward. He sent flames into the four large dragon heads extending out towards him from around the door and triggered the locking mechanism, causing the door to creakily open.

Dust filled Iroh's lungs as he trawled through the accumulation of knowledge and writings held within these ancient walls, not all of which had a Fire Nation origin. Iroh was aware of the nature of how many of these foreign texts had been obtained. However, at this moment he hoped he was correct in his assumption that one of the raids on the Southern Water Tribe had produced something he could use to help Katara learn at least some waterbending. For Katara to maintain her freedom, she would need to demonstrate either a capability to heal or at the very least an ability to provide a sparring partner for Azulon's grandchildren. Finding a way for Iroh to teach her was crucial.

Hours passed, and a mountain of Earth Kingdom scrolls were slowly suffocating Iroh's hope of finding anything that could be useful. As he was beginning to despair, a scroll fell out of a pile he was shifting. A light blue wave curling in on itself bookended the curled parchment and Iroh’s spirits lifted at the tell-tale mark of the water tribe. 

Sighing, Iroh opened the scroll and relaxed as he saw a series of drawings depicting a number of movements he recognised as being those of waterbenders. Hope restored, further searching found one more scroll and Iroh decided that was enough for the moment. Realising how long he had been down in the catacombs, Iroh blew the dust off the scrolls, shoved them in the sash at the back of his tunic and returned to the children. 

Excitedly bursting onto his balcony, he found them once again lost in conversation. When they looked up curiously at his beaming face, Iroh placed the two scrolls on the table in response before looking intently at Katara.

"My dear girl, we are going to teach you some waterbending."

* * *

Despite the enthusiasm from Katara, Iroh had been able to convince her that learning to bend was exhausting and it would be best to wait till the following day to try and teach her. As much as Zuko had wanted to watch, he had been expected to attend his own lessons the following day. Iroh had noticed the disappointment in his nephew's eyes and promised Zuko that he would be able to come to the next lesson. Nudging him, Iroh had quietly reminded Zuko what his first few lessons had been like and that Katara may in fact prefer to not have an audience if it ended up being as frustrating for her. Glumly, Zuko had agreed. 

By the next morning, Iroh had been able to locate a space where they could practise bending for a few hours without being disturbed. Upon arriving, they found that servants had placed an enormous jug of water in the middle of the floor. Katara had barely been able to stomach half of her breakfast and as they walked into the prepared room, she felt a little lightheaded and unable to stop herself from quivering with anticipation. 

"Just a little excited, are we?" Iroh asked teasingly.

Grinning up at him and holding back tears, Katara said, “I’ve waited for this day my whole life. I finally get to learn waterbending."

"Don't get your hopes up too much, Katara. I’m not a waterbending master. And the first few times bending can be immensely frustrating for a young learner,” Iroh paused. “I don't want you to get discouraged if you don't get it straight away."

“I understand,” Katara said, her body shaking with excitement and her face betraying her real thoughts despite her seemingly calm response. 

Iroh sighed. This was going to be a long morning.

* * *

Argh! _Why_ couldn’t she get it?!

An hour had passed and all Katara had been able to achieve was a slight ripple across the surface of the jug. Twice. Both times involved so much concentration that her ears were ringing and her head was starting to throb. Frustrated tears threatened to overflow as her arms began to feel the effects of overuse.

“Katara, you have to clear your mind. A waterbender’s movements should be smooth and effortless, you can’t force it,” Iroh placed a hand on her tense shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I think we should take a break.”

“But I can’t even move it! I’ve moved water before, I don’t understand…” her voice trailed off as she hung her head, the feeling of failure washing over her.

“You’ve been through a lot the last few weeks, it would be expected for this to have had an effect on your mind,” Iroh explained. “I think after a break, we may try some meditation to help you focus. I know that is something that Zuko’s tutors have used with him.”

Both of them sunk down into seats placed against the wall of the room as servants brought them some tea and pastries. Katara took a sip of the tea before placing it back down, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her chin drop to her knees. She couldn’t believe how useless this morning had made her feel. 

She hadn’t been able to learn a lot of waterbending in her life so far, let alone have any formal training, but she had at least been able to move water when she had been at home. Accidents had occurred, such as causing tea to spill from her mother’s cup or upsetting the simmering sea prune stew her Gran Gran was brewing. But she had also successfully pulled off pranks on her unsuspecting brother or other children around the village. On one particular occasion, she had dropped snow from the roof of their home onto Sokka’s head after he had just finished perfecting his warrior’s outfit and face paint. Infuriated and embarrassed, Sokka had refused to speak to her for the rest of the day. But after he had stormed off, her Dad had laughed uproariously with her and she remembered how warm she felt when he told her how proud he was to have her as a daughter. 

Iroh interrupted her memories, asking if she was sure she didn’t want to eat something. Katara raised her head, shaking it, but returned to her cooled tea. Sipping at it, she asked if meditation had helped Zuko.

Iroh chuckled. “Ah, somewhat…Zuko does not seem to enjoy sitting still as long as the tutors instruct him to. He’s improved a lot since I was last at the Palace though, he just continues to get a little frustrated when the fire doesn’t work with him.”

“Why do you think meditating will help me? Isn’t it possible that too much has happened and I’ve lost it…my ability to bend I mean?” Katara asked, head slumping back down to her knees in resignation. “I haven’t been this _useless_ in more than a year.”

“Cheer up little one,” Iroh smiled at her, reaching over to pat her head before leaning back, his eyes kind as he continued. “Water is the element of change. The people of the Water Tribe are capable of adapting to many things. They have a deep sense of community and love that holds them together through anything,” his smile broadened as she lifted her head at his words. “You _will_ get through this block, you have been through a lot for one so young but you are also _far stronger_ than you realise.”

Katara couldn’t help it, the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. Iroh’s encouraging words had helped, she could feel the bonds of despair at her morning’s effort falling away ever so slightly. Before she could remember the emotional barriers from earlier, she pushed herself to her feet and determinedly marched over to the jug. 

Feeling Iroh’s eyes on her, she breathed in deeply and closed her eyes, pulling strength from the abundance of her element in front of her and allowed herself to be drawn back to her memories. 

_She was back at home, within her cozy igloo with the sizzles from the fire and surrounded by furs and warm rugs. She could hear the howling winds outside and the smallest of drafts fluttered the escaped strands of hair falling around her face. All she wanted to do was show off to her mother what she had learnt that day, something so wonderfully exciting that she had tripped over her feet dashing back home, falling face first into a pile of snow in front of some of the younger children._

Deep breath in. Breathe out. Slowly, hardly registering her movements as she focussed on the memory and her breathing, she lifted her right hand across the surface of the water. Hearing a gasp behind her, she opened her eyes to watch a globe of water that had formed above the surface of the jug, her lazily moving hand its guide.

Slowly allowing the small ball of water to re-enter the jug, Katara spun around, a triumphant grin on her face.

“Now _that_ was impressive Katara!” Iroh enthused brightly and pride washed through her.

* * *

It was the first day that Katara and Uncle had let him come along to watch and he could see why. 

It was so boring. 

Zuko stifled another yawn as he watched as Katara slowly raised a ball of water from the surface of the jug, held it there for a few moments then lowered it again. It had been two hours and after participating in the meditation at the beginning, he had been subjected to witnessing the same motion, over and over. Zuko understood that Uncle was trying to instill control in Katara’s movements and he had to admit that the lesson did bring back memories of the repetition taught in his early firebending lessons. 

But basic forms were understandably far more interesting when one was able to follow along. Which Zuko was no longer allowed to do today. It wasn’t his fault that it had made Katara giggle at his exaggeration of the forms. But Uncle had said that it turned Zuko into a distraction. So he had to sit and watch if he wanted to stay there. Leaned his head back against the wall, Zuko tried not to roll his eyes as he listened to Uncle praise the completed motion, the ball having been successfully and yet predictably returned into the jug. 

_So bored._

Frustration fading, Zuko must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Katara was prodding his cheek. Blinking through heavy eyelids, he heard the girl tell Uncle that despite the snoring, Zuko looked like he was dead when he slept. 

Rude.

Glaring at the girl, Zuko sat back up and cracked his neck, wincing at how tight his right shoulder was. 

“Welcome back to the world of the living,” Katara teased, ignoring his glare as she prodded Zuko’s cheek again. 

“Oh good, you’re ready to have a break from the world’s most boring bubble making factory,” he snarked back.

“Why did you even come if you were just going to complain?”

“I thought waterbending would be cooler than this.”

“Better than finding out you can singe your own eyebrows!”

“I told you– you know I didn’t– ugh–I should never have told you that story!”

“Are you two going to stop your bickering and come over for tea?” Iroh interrupted them, raising an eyebrow at Katara’s tongue poked out in Zuko’s direction. Katara looked a little embarrassed to have been caught out but still elbowed him as Uncle turned his back. Scowling, Zuko watched as she innocently skipped over to where afternoon tea had been set up for the three of them.

Zuko huffed as he followed. Girls are crazy. How was that considered normal behaviour?

* * *

A week had passed; a week of meditating, pushing water around the surface of a jug and lifting a small amount of water out of a jug. 

Over and over again. 

Katara couldn’t figure out if she had improved at all.

Every time she expressed her frustration to Iroh, he would just smile back and say these things took a lot of time to perfect and not to get impatient. That she was improving and she would progress eventually. That mastering the basics was the key to bending. And then to meditate. 

Meditating was boring. 

Spirits, Zuko was right. Not that she would inform _him_ of that fact. She wouldn’t hear the end of it if she did. 

Katara came out of her mood to find Iroh curiously watching her. A tired smile graced her face and she raised the teacup to her lips, sipping on it to deflect the inevitable questioning of the origin of her sulking. But it didn’t come.

Instead, Iroh asked about her father. Confused where this change in topic had come from, Katara stared at Iroh in stunned silence until it prompted an explanation. According to Iroh, she had talked about her brother a few times and had understandably refrained from speaking of her mother but Iroh was a bit surprised she hadn’t mentioned her father to him since arriving in the Fire Nation. He was interested.

Hesitantly, Katara talked about her Dad. How tall he was. How tall she was when he pulled her onto his shoulders. How he had begun to teach her ice cutting and how to fish alongside her brother. How she would lose herself in his movements as she watched him carving. Her Dad had loved carving and would create complex designs on the handles of his weapons, the knives they used for the cooking and the axes they used to gather firewood. Her Gran Gran’s own knitting needles had been the first thing her father had carved, her Gran Gran recalling how proud she was to receive them as a birthday present. How wise he was but how a confusing question from one of his children would cause his brow to furrow as he thought through how best to get them to stop asking.

Listening intently, Iroh had sunk back in his chair as Katara described the man who raised her. Seemingly content sipping tea and nodding at her anecdotes, he leaned forward abruptly as something caught his attention.

“…he had only gotten back from the Earth Kingdom a couple of weeks before the raid. It wasn’t easy as Chief to be able to spend time back with his family for long between campaigns–“

“I’m sorry to interrupt….did you say ‘Chief’?”

Katara smiled uncertainly. “Yes? He’s been Chief since before I was born…” At the shocked look on Iroh’s face, Katara ventured, “…are you ok?”

Placing his tea on the table, Iroh slumped back, a calmer expression returning to his face as he observed her. “I apologise for any alarm. It’s just an interesting piece of information, I wasn’t aware of your hereditary connection to the leadership of the Southern Water Tribe,” Iroh explained gently. “Your father must be very concerned about you.”

Katara looked down at her hands. “Yes he will be,” she said quietly.

A few moments of awkward silence passed between tutor and student. The room felt much larger than it had a moment ago, the revelation filling the space between them and removing the ease of which they had previously reminisced about Katara’s history. The gravity of her situation had crashed back into Katara’s consciousness and while she sat there in a daze, she noticed that Iroh appeared to be equally unnerved with learning this new information about her.

A long exhalation brought her back. “Come on now, let’s finish one more set and be done for the day,” Iroh said, pushing himself off the chair and extending a hand out to her. 

Trying to calm down from the renewed concern she had for her family, Katara took the offered hand. The rest of the session passed without any further conversation, both lost in their own thoughts. Unable to clear her mind, Katara’s bending was shakier than before the break but she continued to move through the motions. Luckily, her complaining stomach brought a welcomed end to the lesson, loudly announcing the arrival of dinner time. 

As Iroh closed the door to the hallway, an abrupt cough invaded the thoughts of the subdued pair. During an entire week of lessons, Iroh and Katara had somehow managed to avoid running into anyone else from the Palace. Unfortunately that luck appeared to have run out. Turning, they found themselves face to face with a distinguished yet stern looking man. He was tall, not only towering above Katara but Iroh as well. A manicured beard framed the lower half of his face and his hands were clasped in front of his heavy robes. 

“General Iroh,” the man greeted, deeply bowing before them. 

“Minister Shan,” Iroh greeted with a nod.

“I had been surprised to note your absence from the war council for the last few days,” Shan said. His eyes flicked to Katara as he continued, a note of condescension poorly concealed in their depths. “But I now see that you may have been somewhat preoccupied?”

“Indeed I have,” Iroh responded. “I will be returning tomorrow.”

“Good. I was wondering, have you had any word from your brother in the Earth Kingdom colonies?”

“Not lately, Minister. However, I imagine any such news would have been brought to the attention of the war council.”

“Of course, of course. I look forward to discussing some matters with you after the council meeting then” Shan politely directed at Iroh, a smile forming on his face. Katara noticed Shan’s smile failed to reach the eyes that glanced back at her. “Until tomorrow, General.” 

Shan bowed deeply in front of Iroh again, who placed a hand on her shoulder, turning them both around to walk down the hallway away from the minister. A prickly sensation crawled up Katara’s back, making her shiver. Feeling unsettled, Katara peeked over her shoulder back at the man behind them.

Dark, unyielding eyes bore through her, a fury and hatred contained in them that was beyond anything Katara had ever experienced. If it wasn’t for Iroh’s hand on her shoulder, bearing her forwards, the animosity from Shan’s scowl would have frozen her to where she stood. As it was, she stumbled before dragging her eyes from the terrifying man. 

Struggling to regain her footing, Katara realised that the minister knew who she was and it dawned on Katara what she had seen. The real meaning behind the Shan’s expression and the loathing she had seen burning within those eyes.

She was not wanted here.


	10. A Glowing Discovery

“Katara?”

“Hmmm?” Blue eyes lifted from the book laid out in front of the girl to gaze at Iroh, blinking in the sunlight. 

“What are you reading?”

Katara raised a hand to block the glare from the sun behind him, smiling when he moved to obstruct her view. “Oh, Zuko’s leant me one of his favourite stories. He has lessons today so I was bored.”

“What is this one about?”

“I’m not very far into it but it’s about one of the oldest Spirits, Koh the Face Stealer,” Katara said, scrunching up her nose. “Zuko seems to like scarier stories than I do.”

“Ah, you may be right. I read that one to him when he was younger,” Iroh nodded. “He has always enjoyed stories about the Spirits.”

“Well at least I’m reading this in the middle of the day.”

Laughing, Iroh sat down in the chair next to Katara’s. “I actually came out to ask you something. I ran into Lieutenant Yao this morning and he mentioned that he was shipping out again at the end of the week. He said he has previously invited to introduce his daughter to you and was wondering if he could bring her over tomorrow…if that was acceptable to you of course?”

He held back a chuckle at how fast Katara sat upright, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“I would love to meet her.”

By the following afternoon, initial enthusiasm had subdued into shyness. Iroh watched as the two girls stared at the ground, shuffling their feet, twitching their hands and playing with their hair in comical mirror images of each other. Iroh and Yao exchanged amused glances at each other over the heads of the girls.

“Shall we leave you two to get to know each other a bit better?” Iroh asked, raising an eyebrow when Katara worriedly looked up at him. “We’ll go and find something for afternoon tea.”

“Liao, maybe you could tell Katara a little bit about the city?” Yao said, squeezing his daughter’s shoulder encouragingly and winking at Katara before turning to leave with Iroh.

* * *

Katara gulped as she sneaked a look at the Fire Nation girl standing in front of her. Untamed strands from a dark fringe obstructed amber eyes trained downwards, with colour awkwardly spreading over pale cheeks as Liao bit her lower lip. 

“Um, do you live in the city?” Katara asked hesitantly, instantly regretting the choice of words. Of course the girl lived in the city.

Confused eyes left their safe haven focussed at Liao’s feet and peeked up at her. “Yes?”

“I-I mean, where in the city do you live?”

“Ahhh, closer to the docks than the Palace,” Liao answered. “Actually you may be able to see it from up here,” she moved closer to the balcony, peering out at the city. “You can, we live in one of those buildings out over that way, one of the ones next to that larger one with the curved maroon steeples,” she continued, a slim finger pointing out further towards the wall surrounding the city.

Katara gazed out in the direction the girl was indicating, nodding. All the rooftops looked the exact same. Reluctant to revert back to the awkward silence, she held her tongue and offered some kind words.

“That looks like a nice place to live.”

“Oh! Thank you. Um, I-I would need to ask my mother, but I’m sure you could come over and visit at some point…” Liao returned to worrying her lower lip between her teeth, her burst of confidence failing. “I mean…if you wanted to. I could show you some of the city maybe…”

“I’d like that. I want to see some more of the city eventually, I haven’t been able to explore anywhere outside so far,” Katara smiled at the girl, feeling a little less nervous as the gesture was returned. “Actually I haven’t really been able to leave this wing so far…”

“We may have reached the point that you should be allowed to,” Katara jumped as Iroh’s interruption startled the two girls. “I’m sure you could eventually build up to being able to venture into the city,” Iroh continued, beaming down at them, hands clasped around a platter of food. “Especially with an experienced guide such as Liao here.”

Both girls glanced shyly at each other, tiny smiles gracing their faces. The awkwardness subsided as both of them feasted on fruit and giggled at Iroh and Yao’s stories of time spent stuck on ships. By the time Liao had to leave, they had endeavoured to meet again in the Palace a few months later when Katara had settled in more. 

Wrapping her arms around his legs in an appreciative yet unexpected hug, Katara once again thanked Yao for helping her on the ship. In response, she received a pat on the shoulder from the suddenly bashful lieutenant, followed by a wink and a promise that Yao would come and check on her next time the ship docked in the Fire Nation.

After their guests had left, Katara folded her arms and cheekily looked up at Iroh. “ _So_ …I heard that I’m ready to leave the wing?”

Iroh huffed out a laugh. “Don’t know what sort of idiot told you that, seems like a terrible idea.”

“Oh, I don’t know, he strikes me as someone who has hidden wisdom…he’s just a little reluctant to show it,” Katara teased drawing a scoff from Iroh.

“Youngsters these days, no respect for their elders,” Iroh shook his head. “Disgraceful.”

Giggles spilled over from Katara, but eventually she tentatively asked, “Can I actually see some more of the Palace?”

“You’ve been here almost a month, I guess you are as ready as you are going to be,” Iroh sighed, uncertainty creasing his features. “And I guess they will be as ready for you as they are going to be too.”

Katara chose to ignore the trepidation rising in Iroh’s eyes. 

No.

She wasn’t going to let this opportunity to finally see more of the Palace slip from her fingers. 

Her next few days were filled with the anticipation and excitement of venturing around the Palace, each time she was able to convince Iroh to show her somewhere new. Iroh had a skill for being seemingly able to find times that the Palace was mainly deserted, but they still passed a number of noblemen and servants in their travels. For Katara, the hallways still blurred into crimson covered confusion but she was beginning to notice a few distinctive landmarks in their explorations. 

It was on the third morning of an early trip around the silent building that Iroh finally brought her to the Palace Gardens. The Gardens were breath-taking. Katara had never seen so much green in one place. Barely concealed awe and emotion flooded through her as she blinked at the picturesque colours dancing throughout the space in front of them. The morning sun’s rays cascaded over the wide and open space, warming her face, as she drank in a cocktail of greens, blue and pink spilling from the flowering bushes. Shadows from the trees surrounding the garden cast crawling fingers over the central pond, currently home to a number of lively turtle ducks and proud badgerfrogs. 

In a refreshing contrast to the expected temperatures of the Fire Nation, the crisp morning breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it a bouquet of fragrances coupled with melodic birdsong. 

An unanticipated paradise in the heart of this foreign place. 

Another time, Zuko joined them. The grumbling prince impatiently followed them through the place he grew up in, staggered by the continued eagerness from Katara to see everything. Despite his grumbling, there were places he perked up at their introductions, notably the library, the entrance to the war council chambers and further investigation of the gardens.

After a day full of new discoveries for Katara, the two friends found themselves lazing in the late afternoon sunlight as Iroh had been called away. Conversation had breezed through the standard fare but had finally rested on a previously avoided subject. Curiosity had gotten the better of Katara and awkwardly she had finally asked about Zuko’s family.

“So…I presume you don’t just live in this place with your uncle and the Fire Lord…” she asked, voice trailing off as she saw the look on Zuko’s face. “Iroh has mentioned your mother before?”

“She’s been busy lately but she said she does want to meet you at some point though.” A mischievous grin emerged on his face as he looked at her, a taunt forming on his lips. “Can’t see why she would though, you’re not that special.”

“Very unbecoming of a prince to make comments like that.”

“I thought we had established this, I can make whatever comments I want,” Zuko stated. “I’m a prince.”

“You may have declared that, but at no stage have I said I would accept your authority,” Katara said, sticking her nose in the air in response to the smug grin on the prince’s face.

The action was met with raised eyebrows. “Downright insubordination is an interesting choice.”

She shrugged, both children chuckling before resorting back into companionable silence.

“You never mention your father…” Katara said quietly, watching as something indiscernible passed over his face. Zuko looked at his hands. “Iroh said he is away in the Earth Kingdom colonies?”

The emotion was brushed aside as Zuko raised his head, nodding earnestly. “Oh, he’s just away at the moment dealing with some uprisings for grandfather. He should be back in a few more months,” he said, his voice holding steady. “Uncle left at around the same time for another part of the Earth Kingdom. He was meant to be away for longer too, but grandfather called him back early…I don’t know why…he only came back a week or so before you arrived here,” Zuko babbled, a little more uncertainly. 

It was clear that the boy hadn’t been told much about the change in circumstances, but Katara realised with sudden shock that she wasn’t even aware that Iroh had only returned to the Palace just before she had. The possibility of another, likely deadlier, outcome from her meeting with the Fire Lord weighed on her momentarily before she locked that negative thought back down.

“Oh, I wonder why he came back…” Katara didn’t realise the thought had slipped out until Zuko’s eyes found hers, the boy shrugging in response.

“No one really told me.”

Katara hummed thoughtfully. “Is it just you and your parents then?”

“No,” Zuko responded, Katara unable to help but notice a change in tone. “I have a younger sister as well.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” exclaimed Katara. “Errrm…I’m surprised you haven’t brought her up before?”

Zuko smiled ruefully. “I guess there hasn’t been a reason for it to come up.”

“Oh…”

When he didn’t continue, Katara changed the subject, instead asking something that had been bothering her. “I should have asked earlier but I don’t even know how old you are?”

Shaken from his thoughts, Zuko looked a little taken aback at the question before the corner of his mouth curled up. “I had been wondering that about you as well…I turned eight a few months back, just after my father left actually.”

“Oh, that’s not too much older than I am. I will turn eight a month after the winter solstice.”

“So you’re almost a year younger than I am,” a sharp laugh escaped Zuko. “I would have thought you were younger than my sister…although to be fair, you’re not that much older than her.”

“And _why_ would you think I was I was younger than your sister?” she asked haughtily, watching Zuko’s eyes light up as a cheeky grin grew across his face. 

“Name a reason. You’re tiny, you get far too excited about the weirdest things and you just have the _worst_ sense of humour,” Zuko smirked at the spluttering from Katara, knowing he had landed a shot.

Katara crossed her arms and glared at the gloating prince. “Well, if you are an example of how an eight year old should act, it’s not like there’s going to be an improvement in the next year.”

At the resulting look on his face, she descended into laughter, easily dragging her friend with her.

* * *

She didn’t seem to notice them.

But he did.

Weeks had passed, and Katara had become bolder in her exploration, begging Iroh to allow her to visit new places for longer and at busier times of the day. He had been careful to not indulge her too much, but found that acquiescing had still lead to some predictable issues. The main one being that the pair of them had run into an increasingly large number of people. Ministers, noblemen, servants. 

Often Katara had been lost in her surroundings or shyly watching her feet as they passed someone. But Iroh hadn’t, calmly acknowledging the restless eyes and pursed lips of the observers with a nod of his head or an easy smile. Often the expressions of those caught would suddenly transform into an imitation of respectful acknowledgement, the conveyed meaning of their upturned mouths not being reflected in their eyes. On more than one occasion, Iroh had forgone his casual demeanour for one indicative of his rank and blood, his glare daring the recipient to voice their thoughts on the matter.

However, Iroh was finding it was getting harder to ignore his growing concerns. He had expected Katara to cause a readjustment period for Fire Nation citizens, specifically those within the Palace. But he was realising that he had been naïve as to the extent of the change required. 

Nevertheless, Iroh endeavoured to expose the Palace’s occupants to the vivacious waterbender accompanied by his own presence. He remained cautiously optimistic that after a transition period, more of the Fire Nation citizens would accept the new inhabitant of the Palace. 

In all honesty, Iroh wasn’t appreciating this new addition to his already mounting list of problems. Ever since Katara had inadvertently revealed her father’s role as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, Iroh had been pushing down his apprehension of what the response to her abduction would be from the Water Tribes. Iroh could only suspect how Katara’s father would have reacted to his own daughter being taken to the Fire Nation, along with the added circumstance of his wife’s death at a Fire Nation soldier’s hands. 

Was the Commander of the Southern Raiders aware of this connection when he took Katara? 

Iroh suspected this was unlikely. Azulon didn’t appear to have any knowledge of this, as Iroh’s own request would likely not have been granted if the Fire Lord had known of this. There would be little motivation for Yon Rha to have held back this extra information, unless he thought he had made a mistake in taking Katara. No. That was doubtful. Laughably so. Iroh had known the Commander for a number of years and Yon Rha was not a man that was easily convinced that he had made a mistake. 

So that posed a further headache for Iroh. If he was to bring this new information to his father’s attention, Katara’s fate would likely be out of his hands again. It would be unwise to predict how Fire Lord Azulon would react to the knowledge he had the daughter of an enemy nation’s leader. Iroh was reluctant to find out the answer to this particular problem.

Conversely, it had reached a stage where Iroh could no longer shoulder the burden of this secret alone. He needed to find someone to divulge the gravity of his situation. To share his dilemma in the hope that there may be a solution or at the very least to diminish some of his worrying. 

It was obvious to Iroh who the best person was. 

Whether she would be appreciative of being drawn into this mess was another question.

* * *

“Come on, it’s sunny outside and there are new baby turtle ducks!” 

“But Uncle isn’t around at the moment…”

“It’s been a few weeks! Surely I can go out there by myself…” Katara said imploring. ”And I wouldn’t even be by myself, I’ll be with you!” 

“I don’t think this is a good idea…” Zuko replied quietly.

“It’s still within the Palace and it’s such a nice day out there,” she argued, drawing her eyebrows together in frustration.

“Katara…”

“ _Please_ , Zuko?” Katara appealed to him, inwardly squealing as she saw his face twitch in response. 

Shaking his head, Zuko sighed in frustration. “You’re being ridiculous…” he glanced at her pleading face, both knowing he had lost this one. “ _Fine_ , but you have to tell Uncle it was _your_ idea.” 

Katara shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. 

Victory!

* * *

Rolling his eyes at her antics, Zuko followed a beaming Katara down towards the Gardens. As they walked over the threshold outside into the sunlight, he breathed deeply. He felt his chi rousing contentedly as he absorbed the warming rays. 

Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

Summer hung around in the Fire Nation long after the solstice. Even as they were nearing the end of the season, the intense heat of summer remained on days such as this one. The warmth drew the anxiety from Zuko. As the two friends rounded on the pond, he couldn’t help but feel at ease and in gradually higher spirits, anticipation of seeing the new baby birds again building.

Until he heard a noise. A very familiar noise.

That didn’t last long. 

“Oh no, not them…” 

Zuko stopped in his tracks, flinging out an arm to drag Katara to a similar stance. He tried to ignore the confused stare the girl directed at him, expressive eyes forming an obvious question.

“ _Who_?” she asked. Apparently his silence was not enough of a response for Katara.

“My sister and her friends…we should go,” Zuko made to turn around but was stopped by Katara’s hand on his arm. 

“I don’t understand. Why would we leave, they don’t own the Gardens,” Katara said. Persuasive blue eyes met his, earnestly convincing him to stay. “Come on, we just got here. I’m sure it will be fine.” 

Zuko hesitated, unsure how to deal with this. 

It didn’t matter. 

Stomach sinking, any decision making on his part was quickly interrupted by a clear, teasing voice cutting through his thoughts. 

“ _Zuzu_ , how nice of you to join us…and I see you have brought a friend.”

* * *

Surprise forming in Katara’s mind, she watched as her friend caved in on himself at the sound of a voice. Dragging her eyes from the confusing transformation in front of her, she swung herself back to see three girls standing in between them and the pond. 

One of the girls was standing in front of the others and currently focussed on Katara.

Almond-shaped, golden eyes looked her up and down slowly, a perfectly curated eyebrow raised and a sweet smile blooming on the face of the small girl. An air of confidence was projected from every inch of her, screaming nobility from her graceful posture, elegant clothing, flawlessly arranged hair and assessing smile. Uncommonly pretty, the girl conveyed an ingrained sense of perfection. 

A fact that she appeared to be completely aware of, as if perfection made up her very psyche. 

Katara found herself frozen under that gaze, unable to speak. 

“You must be Katara,” her voice was calming yet had an edge to it, each word enunciated impeccably. 

Katara realised with embarrassment that not only was she still staring, her jaw had dropped. A blush formed on her cheeks as she nodded, her reaction causing a bright, friendly smile to form over the girl’s face.

“Oh, it is so lovely to meet you. My name is Azula and these are my friends, Mai and Ty Lee,” the girl - Azula - said, indicating each of the girls behind her as she spoke. 

The first girl, Mai, was staring at her feet, barely looking up at the mention of her name. A dense black fringe fell perfectly over her forehead, buns formed on both sides of her head each with their own crimson ribbon cascading from them. 

Ty Lee, on the other hand, bounced on her toes, rocking as she enthusiastically waved at Katara and greeted her. Surprisingly, Ty Lee had brunette hair, a feature that struck Katara as abnormal amongst the more common black hair she had witnessed adorning the Fire Nation citizens. The majority of that hair was currently pulled into a thick braid, with sections falling haphazardly around the cheerful girl’s face. She was dressed in shades of pink, another observation that seemed out of the ordinary for the inhabitants of the Palace Katara had previously seen.

Katara had been so focussed on Ty Lee’s fervour that she had missed that Zuko had spoken from behind her.

“–should go, we don’t want to interrupt or anything.”

“Oh don’t be _silly_ Zuzu, you aren’t interrupting,” Azula smiled at him. “Anyways, it would give us a chance to get to know Katara.” 

Golden eyes flicked back to Katara, the smile broadening and eyes dancing with humour as Azula watched Katara’s speechlessness. 

“You appear to have become a bit of a celebrity around here,” Azula said. “It’s been so unfair that I haven’t been able to meet you before now,” she continued, a small pout formed on the previously smiling face. “Uncle and Zuzu have kept you all to themselves… If you asked me, they have been a little bit selfish. Surely it would be nice for them to have allowed you to meet some other girls your age.”

Katara could feel the tension coming off Zuko in waves. To her surprise, the prince appeared to be unable to control the heat coming from him, the surrounding temperature rising as he listened to Azula’s words. It was becoming very clear to Katara that this girl was Zuko’s sister. But the reaction overflowing from Zuko did not align at all with the perfectly friendly girl smiling without hesitation at Katara. There was no trace of animosity directed towards Katara, despite Azula saying she knew who, and presumably what, Katara was.

“How have you found the Palace so far, Katara?” 

Realising she still hadn’t spoken, Katara forced herself to utter a simple response, her voice wavering. Despite her weak answer, Azula beamed back at her as if Katara had achieved something wonderful. Katara could feel her unease slipping away at the girl’s kind and encouraging expression. 

This was starting to make sense. Zuko and Azula were siblings. Of course Zuko was not always a fan of his sister. Katara knew that her relationship with Sokka could get tense at times. 

There was nothing to worry about.

Zuko’s reaction was perfectly normal.

“Kaatra, you will have to come and practise cartwheeling with us when you’re free,” Ty Lee spoke up, interrupting Katara’s musing. “Have you ever cartwheeled before?”

In response to Katara’s shaking head, Ty Lee offered to demonstrate and proceeded to execute a perfectly formed cartwheel, landing lightly on her feet and dramatically bowing, drawing a giggle from the other girls at her theatrics. 

“Oh, I would love to be able to do that!” Katara exclaimed, impressed. She couldn’t help but grin at Ty Lee, despite noticing Azula’s calm appraisal of her diverted interest from the corner of her eye.

“You know, we may actually have enough people to play a game!” Azula’s bright voice brought Katara attention back to her, to find Azula smiling encouragingly at her. “Katara, would you like to play a game?” 

“Uh, sure,” Katara said hesitantly.

“I don’t know if that is a good idea, Uncle said we couldn’t be out for long,” the sharp tone in Zuko’s voice caused Katara to swing around and look at her friend. Zuko was rigid, hands curled into fists at his side, glaring at Azula. 

“You are being ridiculous Zuzu,” Azula laughed, shaking her head. “Either way, I imagine you haven’t forgotten all of your manners. It’s obviously Katara’s choice as to whether she wants to play the game.”

Katara was stunned by the pleading in Zuko’s eyes when he looked at her. She tried to convey her apology back at him and Zuko looked crestfallen as he recognised her decision.

Dragging her eyes from Zuko’s, she turned to Azula and smiled confidently. “I’d love to play a game,” Katara said, feeling buoyed by the approval that came from Azula’s ecstatic expression. “I don’t know any Fire Nation games though…”

“Oh that’s quite all right,” Azula waved her hand, dismissing her concerns. “We were actually about to play one of my favourite games, it’s pretty easy to learn.”

“Oh ok, that sounds great.”

“Are you also going to join us, Zuzu?”

Katara couldn’t help but hear the defeated tone in Zuko’s voice as he agreed to join in.

“Here's the way it goes. We place an apple on the head of one of the people playing the game and the other person has try to knock the apple off the other person's head, by whatever means they can,” Azula said. “Look, I’ll show you.”

Azula moved Ty Lee into place by an artistic fountain. She calmly placed an apple on the other girl’s head and stepped back. Ty Lee grinned at Katara, who was looking at the apple in confusion. Azula took a few paces away from Ty Lee, drew in a deep breath and shot _fire_ at the apple, successfully knocking the apple off.

Zuko broke the stunned silence from Katara, protesting the choice of game.

“Oh, stop being a spoil sport,” Azula giggled. “Ty Lee is fine, aren’t you Ty Lee?” In response to the resulting nodding, Azula beamed at Zuko. “Come on, this will be fun!” 

“But I’m not a firebender,” Katara felt all of their eyes return to her as she raised an obvious problem.

“Neither are Mai and Ty Lee and they still play,” the pout was back as Azula appealed to Katara. “Don’t tell me that you are going to be like Zuzu about this too?”

In response to the silence, Azula shrugged and continued, the smile returning to her face as she looked at Zuko. “If you don’t trust me, why don’t you aim when Katara has the apple on her head?”

Katara looked at Zuko, silently imploring him to help her fit in here. To have a chance at feeling included in this game. She tried to smile assuredly but Zuko looked ill, wide eyed and pale. 

Eventually, he slowly shut his eyes and took a deep breath, before raising his eyes to the sky and walking past Katara to grab the apple from Ty Lee.

“Excellent! Glad to see you’re still able to have some fun Zuzu,” Azula said, ignoring the ensuing glare. 

Ty Lee came up to Katara and gently directed her to stand near the fountain. Nervously, Katara tried to convey a confidence she did not feel as Zuko approached her, pointedly avoiding her eyes as he placed the apple on her head. 

“Please stay still,” he breathed quietly.

He continued to not look at her, focussing instead on the apple, but Katara saw his eyelashes flutter as she promised she wouldn’t move. Trying to emulate the statue formed in the centre of the fountain behind her, Katara refused to breathe as she watched Zuko lining up in front of her, ready to send fire towards the apple.

She shut her eyes.

A cry broke out. 

Eyes flashed open.

A second of noticing someone colliding with Zuko.

Zuko falling towards her.

Fire.

Everywhere.

She was too hot.

Skin scalding. 

An agonised scream.

A second to realise that it was coming from her.

She felt a body fly towards her. Crashing into her.

Katara was thrown back into the fountain. All she could hear was a voice yelling at someone. 

A familiar voice.

Zuko.

She tried to speak, tried to open her eyes but she couldn’t bring herself to. 

All she could feel was the heat.

Until that wasn’t the only thing.

Something else was trying to push through, attempting to invade her senses.

A feeling of calm starting to cascade over her, willing her to stop panicking.

She couldn’t.

_She could._

A voice cried out in front of her and she found she could open her eyes to investigate it.

Only to see a terrified face, jaw dropped and eyes large, pupils blown wide.

“What’s going on?”

Her voice sounded foreign to her ears, as if coming from somewhere other than her own body.

Zuko had backed away from her. She could see the girls behind him, their faces sporting identical masks of horror.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Trembling lips wavered, a soundless explanation failing to express itself.

“Zuko?”

“Y-you’re _glowing!_ ”


	11. Useful

Bright lights assaulted her eyes as Katara slowly forced open heavy eyelids. She observed a large number of flames situated around the walls of a strange room. She was lying down.

Why was her head throbbing?

She tried to lift a hand to press against her temple and looked down in shock at how difficult it was to move her arm, noticing that she was tucked into a small bed.

Where was she? She hadn't seen this place before. The room appeared to be predominantly empty apart from a number of benches covered by perfectly stacked metal…were they  _utensils_? That was weird. A seat was the only other notable item in the room, currently empty but placed next to her bed.

Katara felt completely exhausted. Forcing her arms to rise and pressing the heels of her hands into aching eyes, she was surprised to find her hands were also tender.

Wait. What had happened?

_Fire?_

Panicking, she pulled her hands away from her eyes and stared at them, before quickly rubbing her hands down her arms.

_What?_  Where were the  _burns?_ Was that all just a bad dream? The last thing she could remember was seeing alarm in Zuko's eyes?

Did he say she was glowing?

Shallow breaths fought to escape from her throat as she prodded and stroked her face and neck. Pulling down the sheets on the bed, she tried to find evidence of the burns that had felt ravage her, that had brought on an unparalleled agony. Her confusion intensified when she realised she was not wearing the clothes she had on in the Gardens, instead covered in a long white nightshirt made from a light material that fell past her knees.

A cough from by the door caused Katara to jump out of her skin. Her frightened eyes glanced up to find the concerned face of Iroh.

"I'm sorry to startle you, Katara. We were wondering when you would wake up," Iroh said. "Good to see you appear to be in one piece."

"I-I don't understand. What happened?  _Where_  am I? Why am I not covered in burns?"

A sympathetic smile met her questions, before Iroh stepped into the room, tugging the sheet back up to her shoulders. He pulled the chair closer to her bed as he sat down, knees creaking slightly with how low the chair was raised above the ground.

"Iroh, I don't understand, what is happening to me?"

Iroh took a deep breath. "I thought you may have learnt this already but without any other waterbenders around, I can see why you may never have been told. You have healing abilities. The great benders of the Water Tribe sometimes have this ability."

"Healing abilities?"

"Some waterbenders are able to heal wounds by redirecting a person's chi throughout their body channelling water as the mechanism to allow them to achieve this. I think you may have always had this ability and when you suffered burns earlier today, your body instinctively knew to use this."

"Zuko said I was glowing?"

"Yes. Specifically the water that coated you was glowing while it healed you."

Pinching her eyebrows together, Katara looked down at her hands.

"Why am I here?"

"Ahhh. You fainted. You've actually been asleep for a few hours now," Iroh said. "My nephew has been asking about you."

"Oh," Katara responded quietly.

"Katara, I heard what happened," Iroh explained. "There appears to be a variation in everyone's memories of the exact events that occurred but it does seem that Zuko did not mean to burn you."

Bewildered, Katara looked up at him. "I didn't think he had," she responded. "It was my fault we were out there in the first place…actually I should have listened to Zuko about a few things," she continued quietly, embarrassment threading through her words.

A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I heard you met my niece," Iroh sighed. "Katara, each new person we meet has something to teach us. Both about who they are and about who we are," Iroh said gently. "We can use those lessons however we want. Whether we take what we learn as a positive or negative lesson, or even choose to just ignore it, is our own decision."

Scrunching up her nose, Katara frowned at him. "Why do you always speak in riddles?"

Iroh threw back his head and laughed. "A question my son and nephew have asked me many times. Unfortunately, I am yet to provide them with a suitable answer."

"I'm not surprised by that."

"I imagine you are not," his eyes twinkled at her. "Anyways, in light of your new discovery, I have someone who would like to reintroduce themselves to you. Would you mind if I invite them in?"

"S-sure?" Katara responded uncertainly.

Iroh chuckled as he rose and left the room, before returning with another man. The bags under the man's eyes remained from the ship but his hair had been wrestled into submission, the tangles removed and the strands tied away from his face neatly. The same kind smile spread over Doctor Pang's face as he considered her, Katara noticing that he was quickly cataloguing her condition as the recognisable crinkles formed around his eyes.

"Hello Katara, you look a lot better than when I last saw you," his voice calmed her, as it had on the ship that brought her to the Fire Nation. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled back at him. "I just feel very tired…and a little confused."

"I take it General Iroh has explained what happened to you," Pang looked at Iroh, acknowledging the resulting nod before returning his eyes to her. "I am honoured to meet another Water Tribe healer, I admit I haven't seen one in a number of years."

"Uh, I don't know if I would be considered a healer. I wouldn't know how to heal anyone," Katara responded nervously.

Pang waved his hand, dismissing her concerns with a smile. "You have the ability. It is possible to learn more about this skill now that we know you possess it," Pang said. "If you were interested, I would love to give you a chance to practise here, we have a lot of injured soldiers returning."

"Fire Nation soldiers…"

"Uh yes, I understand why that may be uncomfortable for you, but I would urge you to see this as an opportunity to practise a skill you already possess," Pang explained. "Of course, you are welcome to have a think about and let me know if you are interested."

"Thank you, I will."

A neatly presented woman arrived at the threshold of the room, bowing and waiting patiently as Pang moved towards her. A few quiet words passed between them, Pang nodding as she backed out of the room.

"Either way, it was nice to see you again Katara. I will leave you with General Iroh for the moment. I believe there is someone camped outside the medical wing who may want to hear that you have woken up," Pang said, backing out of the room.

Katara did not miss the amused glance that passed between the general and the doctor as he exited. She looked at Iroh questioningly.

"Zuko has been coming and arguing with the doctors on and off all afternoon," he chuckled. "He may be a little grumpy to find out that I have been allowed in without him." Sighing, Iroh continued a little softer. "Whether or not you think so, I believe my nephew feels responsible for you ending up in here."

"I understand why," the girl nodded. Noticing an odd look on Iroh's face as he observed her, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Katara, I realise this is your decision," Iroh said, "but I have to urge you to consider practising your healing with Doctor Pang." Katara recognised with surprise that his expression was one of concern.

"I would like to try and get better at healing," Katara said. "But it would be strange to…"

"…heal Fire Nation soldiers," Iroh finished for her. "I understand. However, there are advantages in the development of your skill past that of healing soldiers. If anyone queried your existence in the Capital, showing ability in healing would provide a usefulness that would be hard to refute even by the most passionate of arguments.

"I see," Katara replied quietly. She had wondered how Iroh had convinced his father to save her life, but the question scared her. It still scared her. But she decided she no longer wanted to be kept in the dark. "Is this how you plead my case to the Fire Lord?"

Resignation filled Iroh's eyes at her question and she knew it was the right one. "It was a key point in my argument. I assure you it was not the only argument and reason for your pardon, but it was a crucial one."

"B-but, I hadn't shown  _any_  ability to heal," Katara stuttered. "How were you so certain that I would be able to?"

"I had a hunch," he shrugged as he spoke. "It is an ability that many waterbenders present with, and considering your actions at the South Pole, you appear to have the makings of a powerful waterbender, Katara."

"But what if you had been  _wrong_?"

"Ah, then I trusted that there would have been other reasons to argue in the future," Iroh said. "However, as you now have shown that you hold this skill, surely you can take some comfort in that through development of that, it would be much harder to stand against you," he reached over and placed his hand on hers, smiling reassuringly when she didn't flinch away. "There are some things that the best Fire Nation medicine fails to heal. You have the potential to change that."

Frowning, Katara grappled with this new information. She felt so stupid. Of course she needed to have some use to be allowed to stay here. She still embraced her freedom from the cells, still welcomed it, but somehow this freedom felt tainted now. Her continued existence depended solely on the presumption that she could help the Fire Nation.

What was expected of her? Was she expected to sacrifice herself for the pride of her people and return to the cells? So that one of their own was not helping their enemy?

Or was she allowed to want to live?

She thought of Iroh, who had been holding this information, hoping she'd present with a skill she didn't even know she could possess, not wanting to put pressure on her but knowing the risk he had taken.

She thought of Yao and Liao who had been nothing but kind to her, despite her background and she thought of Pang, offering to train her in a skill that would likely save her life as well as make her more powerful in her own bending.

And she thought of Zuko, currently believing he was to blame because Katara dragged him into playing a game he didn't want to play.

Pride be damned. No one else was here to tell her what to do. To tell her what she was supposed to do. And she didn't want to be returned to the cells. Surely her family would want her to do anything to survive.

So she could eventually go home to them.

Just like the Fire Nation soldiers that were injured. She was sure that many of them just wanted to make it home to their families. She had a chance to help them. Why should she feel guilty about helping them?

"I want to learn how to heal," Katara said defiantly. "I want to help."

Concern fading from his face, Iroh's smile warmed at her decision, and he squeezed her hand. "I am glad to hear that, learning to heal will hopefully be useful for you to learn as well."

"When would I have to-"

" _Where is she?"_

An angry, emotional voice pierced through their conversation, the words bordering on a shriek on the last syllable. Iroh glanced towards the door as he recognised the sound of his nephew storming through the medical wing, with Pang's calming voice following the small but indignant prince.

"Be gentle on him, he's had a rough morning," Iroh smiled at her as he stood up and stepped out of the way as Zuko burst through into the room. His hair was falling out of the now lopsided ponytail, robes pushed up one arm and sooty tracks smeared across a furious face. Frantic eyes searched the room before landing on her.

The change was instant. At seeing her sitting up in the bed, looking at him with surprise, Zuko's entire posture subdued into relief and what Katara perceived as embarrassment.

"You're ok…" his voice was quiet, the question fading into a statement as his voice trailed off.

"I'm ok," Katara reassured him, unable to bring herself to smile as she watched the dejected boy standing in front of her.

"But you were covered in fire, I- how-" perplexed eyes flicked to Iroh and back to Katara. "How are you not burned?"

"Katara was able to heal herself," Iroh interjected, explaining when he saw the girl was unable to. "The glowing you saw, she used the water to heal the burns."

"So it wasn't m-magic?" Zuko asked uncertainly, a deep red filling his cheeks.

Iroh made a slight choking noise before coughing quietly and glancing at Pang. Once he had regained control, he replied a little shakily. "No Zuko, it wasn't magic. Some waterbenders are able to heal and we were unsure whether Katara possessed this wonderful gift or not," Iroh smiled at his embarrassed nephew. "I guess now we know."

"Oh."

"I think we should leave you two alone for a few minutes before Katara needs some more rest," Iroh nodded at Pang before the two of them left the room, Iroh patting his nephew on the shoulder as he passed him.

After the men had left the room, silence filled the space between the two children, disturbed only by the shuffling of Zuko's feet and Katara playing with the sheets on her bed.

"I'm sorr-"

"I'm so s-"

Awkwardness replaced the silence as they both flushed at their outbursts, Katara staring at the ceiling as Zuko's gaze found his feet.

"Katara, I don't- I'm not sure how- I'm so sorry," Zuko stumbled over his words but by the time she returned her gaze to him, he was earnestly staring at her. "I thought I had burned you really badly and- and I didn't know how I could cope knowing I had done that to you."

"Zuko, it wasn't your fault-"

"Yes it was, I should have had more control than  _that_!" Fierce golden eyes met hers, anger and frustration lurking in them. Katara realised with a start that the emotion was solely focussed on Zuko himself.

"Zuko, you were pushed," she said quietly. "I don't think it was your fault."

"It doesn't matter, I should have been able to stop myself from bending," Zuko shook his head, eyes firmly trained on a spot on the wall beside Katara. "My tutors are right, I need to have more control."

"Maybe. But I am still ok…" Katara tried to smile at him, willing him to looking at her. "You can't blame yourself for today, I should have listened to you."

Confused, blurry eyes finally looked at her, eyes forming a question Zuko was unable to state.

"You didn't think the game was a good idea. You were right."

"Oh."

"I should have trusted you," Katara said softly. "I got us into trouble, not you."

An exchange of small, bashful smiles occurred before the awkwardness returned.

"I don't understand though, what happened?" Katara asked. "All I remember seeing was someone pushing you, then felt myself being pushed into the fountain and you were scared of me…"

Zuko looked at her curiously for a moment before responding. "Ty Lee tripped into me. Well that's what she- I was told. I saw you covered in fire and tackled you into the water. The girls were screaming for someone to help and maybe I was too, I don't know, and then- then you just looked up at me and you were covered in this strange blue glowing light and- and you were starting at me and asking me what was happening," Zuko shuddered, "and I told you that you were glowing and you passed out as the guards arrived."

"I passed out?"

He nodded. "And they took you and I- I wasn't allowed to come see you. They said you were sleeping but you were doing better but- but I couldn't work out how you would be ok and they wouldn't tell me," Zuko continued, fists thudding against the outside of his legs as he punctuated frustrated words. "They wouldn't even tell me Uncle was here."

"I'm so sorry, Zuko."

"Why are you sorry, it's not  _your_  fault no one tells me anything?"

"I know. I'm still sorry," Katara said. "I just wanted to fit in…" her voice trailed off as she remembered how idiotic and naïve she had been. "I made a mess of this. I feel so stupid."

Zuko huffed a small laugh. "You shouldn't, my sister has a way of making people feel that way."

"Yeah, I guess I can see that now."

"She's a prodigy. You'll get used to her after a while," Zuko explained.

"Oh, I imagine it isn't easy having her as a sister," Katara said.

"No, it isn't," Zuko scoffed. "We used to be a lot closer, but not really anymore. Azula has her moments though, when she reminds me of the sister I remember."

"That's good," Katara smiled at him. "People change, it's just not always for the better though. Maybe she could change back?"

"Yeah…" Zuko said. "Have they told you when you can leave?"

Katara frowned. "No, but I'm just tired. I don't want to stay here," she said, creasing her nose. "It smells weird."

"I'm sure Uncle won't make you stay if you're feeling better," Zuko replied. "It's neat that you can heal though."

Katara hummed. Changing the subject, she flashed Zuko a cheeky smile, feeling better when she noticed the wary expression on his face.

"So…" Katara asked teasingly. "…Zuzu?"

Zuko groaned, glaring at her. "Don't start."


	12. Guilt

The incident at the fountain had depleted Katara.

Uncle had explained that the amount of healing she had endured had drained her and it was likely that, similar to other forms of bending, a waterbender would need to build up stamina when healing.

After a few pointed words from Uncle regarding exploring outside of one's boundaries and the risks they would bring on themselves, the two friends found themselves confined to the same wing during the day. Katara had been particularly sheepish after this talk, her stubbornness fading in the wake of the events in the Garden.

However, by the end of the week, both of them were starting to get increasingly irritated with their constricted playground. Guilt still weighed on Zuko's mind, and he had forced himself to spend as much time cooped up in Uncle's wing as he could, in a warped camaraderie with Katara.

Therefore, both children were greatly relieved when his uncle came in after lunch one day to suggest that they should go on a small excursion in the Palace to meet someone that afternoon. Katara responded with excitement, Zuko with cautious confusion, but both were pleased to have this opportunity to break out of the familiar corridors and rooms.

"Where are we going?" Zuko asked.

"Ah, actually you will be familiar with where we are heading, nephew," Uncle chuckled. "I have received a request from Princess Ursa to meet Katara," he said, winking at Zuko.

"M-Mom?" stuttered Zuko, ignoring the questioning glance from Katara as he blinked at his uncle. "We're going to see Mom today? Why?"

"I've been telling Ursa a little bit about Katara and she is eager to meet the girl that's befriended her son," Uncle said, kind amber eyes twinkled at Zuko, clearly amused by his surprise.

"Oh."

His uncle laughed at his discomfort and Zuko could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. "Is there a problem with that, Zuko? I would have thought you would be happy that Katara finally got to meet your mother."

"N-no, no problem," Zuko mumbled, refusing to look up at the confused giggling coming from Katara's direction.

* * *

Why was he nervous about this?

He knew it was inevitable. But the longer he had known Katara, the more nervous he had felt about his mother meeting the waterbender. He scuffed his feet against the ground, falling behind Uncle and Katara as they keenly sped towards the wing that his family lived in. Why did they have to walk so fast? They seemed purposively oblivious to the fact that Zuko was dropping behind, so much so he had to jog to catch up with the excited pair.

It will be fine.

They approached the entrance to the wing. Uncle barely had to acknowledge the guards before they swept open the doors, revealing the living quarters of his family. He heard Katara suck in a breath at the room they entered, an action that surprised Zuko. Uncle's quarters were more impressive than his family's, being the Crown Prince, however Zuko found himself feeling a little pride mounting at her awe at their rooms. A servant directed them to a couch, offering to fetch his mother while they waited.

Zuko sat down, trying to stop fidgeting and contain the nerves. Katara came to sit next to him and unexpectedly started to bounce her knee. Now that they were no longer walking, he noticed that she was slightly shaking. Zuko was relieved to find he was not the only one anxious by this meeting and the two of them sat in amicable silence as they nervously waited his mother's entrance, both avoiding the bemused expression of his uncle.

* * *

They didn't have to wait long.

Katara was just drawing in another shaky breath, when the most elegant woman she had ever set eyes on glided into the room. Slim, tall and graceful, with long sleek hair - half of which was pulled back into a high twist and held together with an ornate gold flamed headpiece - Fire Princess Ursa smiled at Iroh as she entered the room.

"Iroh, it is good to see you!"

Sparkling, golden eyes found her and that smile brightened as Katara rushed to her feet, bowing in a moment of comprehension of the woman she was meeting.

"Oh please don't worry about that, child," Ursa calmly stepped towards Katara. The girl tilted her head back to look up at Zuko's mother.

"You must be Katara, my son has told me quite a bit about you," Ursa continued, eyes moving to Zuko. Katara could feel the heat coming in waves from the presumably red prince.

Katara nodded, speechless. Her shyness caused a barely stifled chortle from Iroh and she briefly scowled at him before fixing her eyes on her feet, embarrassed by the loss of control in her expression.

"Well, this is a new experience, she normally isn't this quiet," Iroh seemed to have shrugged off the warning in her glower, infuriatingly continuing to enjoy her timid response.

"Well, I am honoured to finally meet you. Katara is a beautiful name and it appears to match you perfectly," Ursa continued.

Katara looked up at her in surprise. "M-me? But you are the most beautiful woman I have  _ever_  seen-" she blurted out, eyes widening and hand clamping over her mouth as she realised what she had said. She felt her cheeks heating, betraying her embarrassment. Iroh broke out laughing, also a cruel betrayal.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Zuko gawking at her. She ignored him. A breathless giggle from above her urged Katara to draw strength and look back up at the Fire Princess.

"Well I am very flattered," Ursa smiled at her kindly. "You have striking eyes Katara, what an incredible colour."

Katara swallowed down past a block in her throat. "Thank you, your headpiece is very pretty," she said hesitantly. "Is it to show that you are a princess?"

"Why, yes it is," Ursa reached up to touch it momentarily as she answered. She returned a curious expression to Katara, humming as she continued. "Iroh has told me a little about your family. It appears to me that you are also a princess, did you have something similar when you were at home?"

Shocked, Katara stuttered as she reacted. "W-what- no, I'm not-"

" _She_  can't be a princess," Zuko interrupted, flushing as his mother sent an unimpressed expression towards him for his outburst.

"Are you not the chieftain's daughter?" Ursa asked steadily, returning to Katara, amusement growing in her eyes.

"Y-yes?"

"Therefore, I would imagine you would be the closest definition of a princess within your tribe?"

"The Northern Water Tribe has a princess, but we do not," Katara explained, pointedly avoiding Zuko's flustered stare burning into the side of her face.

"From my understanding, and I believe that Iroh holds the same understanding of the circumstances, you would be considered a princess within the Fire Nation hierarchy based on your standing within your tribe," Ursa's eyes twinkled at her. "Of course I may be incorrect, and I wouldn't want to have you feel uncomfortable by that assertion."

"Oh, I didn't think of it like that," she responded quietly.

"She couldn't be a princess anyway," Zuko muttered under his breath.

Hearing him, Katara sent her most formidable glare his way. "And  _why not_?"

"Well you don't act like any princess I have ever met," he grumbled, ducking his head to evade her.

" _Zuko!_ " Ursa exclaimed.

Katara couldn't help it, forgetting the presence of the adults for a moment. "Well, that makes us equal," she snarked at him. "You don't act like any prince I have ever met either."

Puzzled eyes sneaked a peek at her. "But I  _am_  a prince," Zuko said in bewilderment. "This is how princes act."

"Says you."

"How would you know?" he continued. "You don't know any other princes."

"I know Iroh," Katara looked up at the beaming face of Iroh, the traces of tears forming in his eyes at repressed laughter. "I thought Iroh was a prince as well."

Ursa chuckled, a delightful sound that brought the attention of both children back to her. "Well, I guess you did warn me Iroh," Ursa's eyebrows were raised as she looked at the two of them. "I was a little surprised but now I have seen it in person, I can't fault your comments about the two of them."

Her chuckling continued as matching confused expressions, gold and blue eyes alike, blinked up at her.

"Shall we get some tea?" Iroh suggested, eliciting a pleased clap of the hands from Ursa.

Katara and Zuko stared at each other as the attention was removed from them, Zuko shrugging in response to her whispered question.

* * *

It was the following week before Iroh deemed Katara rested enough to return to waterbending training, and a further week before she was allowed to head to the wards for her first morning spent with Doctor Pang.

Apprehension over what the experience with Fire Nation soldiers would entail was quickly relieved as Pang stated he wanted her to start with healing small wounds on him, specifically a prick on his finger caused from a thin blade. He explained gently that the added pressure of learning to heal in front of a cynical soldier may be too much for a beginner, which brought an instant release of nerves from Katara.

Despite this, healing brought a lot of pressure and recreating the calming feeling that had spoken to her in the fountain did not come easily to Katara. She found that she was unable to look directly at the doctor, squeezing her eyes closed as she concentrated.

It took over an hour before she could keep Pang's hand coated with water, and even longer to produce a stunning blue glow that drew a gasp from Pang. The gasp broke Katara's focus and as she opened her eyes to stare at the glow in wonder, water escaped, splashing around their feet. Pang delightedly congratulated her before setting up to start again.

Healing sessions exhausted her in a different way than her waterbending instructions with Iroh and Katara was only able to make sporadic appearances at the wards. Over a month passed with repeated healing sessions progressing, the breaks between visits to the ward decreasing as Katara built up her strength.

She was still surprised when one morning she had arrived at the ward to find a young man on the bed in the ward. Smiling at her encouragingly, Pang introduced the young man as a soldier who had stumbled into an opponent's sword during standard training at the barracks. She peeked at the man – was  _man_  the right word to use, he couldn't be more than a teenager - who was meaningfully staring at the wall. Pang ignored him as the doctor moved closer to the bed and gently removed the bandage covering the soldier's arm.

Gulping, Katara stepped forward, forcing a wave of nausea down at the gnarly sight. A jagged wound sliced through the man's forearm, coagulated blood forming along the edges, an acrid smell meeting her twitching nose. Shuddering, she tore her eyes from the injury to find Pang closely watching her. After she nodded acceptance, he smiled and reached for a bowl of water from the bench behind him, holding it out towards her and patiently waiting for her cue.

Katara took a long, deep breath, calming herself before calling the water to her, covering her hands as she leaned towards the soldier's arm. She ignored the man's flinch, refusing to look up at him and focussing only on the gash carved into his arm. Concentrating, she brought her hands over his arm, remembering the repeated lessons with Pang, drawing the soldier's energy paths through to where her hands hovered. Relief was pushed back as the water covering her hands began to glow, unwilling to break her sole focus as she knitted the wound back together.

Drowning out the soldier's unsteady breathing, a few minutes passed before she returned the water to the bowl and leaned back to quiet congratulations from Pang. Pride washed through her as she observed her work, the arm returned to normal and shocked tawny eyes observing her. She smiled shyly at the young man.

"T-thank you," the soldier stammered, raising his arm and twisting it in front of his face in astonishment.

"You're welcome," she said quietly.

* * *

One month at the wards became two, then three, and cold weather finally descended on the Fire Nation.

Well, cold weather according to Zuko.

To Katara, the drop in temperature merely brought the Fire Nation to a reasonable and liveable warmth. The array of spectacular colours inundating the Gardens and the change in the breathtaking view from Iroh's balcony continued to astound Katara as the season passed. The weather was milder here than it was at the Water Tribe at all stages of the year. With surprise, she found the Fire Nation in winter to be pleasant, even enjoyable.

The continued grumbling from Zuko was just an added bonus.

Katara continued to notice barely concealed glares at her presence in the hallways, and not all the soldiers she healed responded in the same appreciative manner as the first one had. She had had variable results with her healing, but assurances from Pang convinced her that she was improving. Notably, it had dawned on her that Pang never brought a burn victim to her, an oddity considering where she was. She suspected that Iroh may have had some sway in shielding her from those memories for the time being.

She found she was rarely bored. Between waterbending lessons with Iroh, healing sessions with Pang and exploring with Zuko, the months flowed past, bringing with them a routine that reassured Katara.

Nevertheless, the realisation that she had been away from home for so long was manifesting in the back of her mind, causing a rising dread to pool in her stomach and play games with her mind. Slowly eating away at any positive emotion that dared to rear its head and make her feel joy.

Four months after she had arrived in the Fire Nation, the magnitude of that time lost struck her. They were closing in on the winter solstice and therefore, creeping closer to her birthday. The desperation to see her family again returned with a vengeance. Continued waves of shame and guilt flooded her mind at the memories of her mother, her family, her tribe.

What was  _wrong_  with her?

How could she even be feeling a small amount of happiness with her life here?

She knew Iroh had begun to worry about her, finding her wandering the halls in the middle of the nights. He stayed up with her on these sleepless nights as she sat in silence gazing out from the balcony. In vain, he tried to reassure her, telling her that she had no reason to feel guilty.

That none of this was her fault. But as winter drew ever closer, Katara was finding it harder and harder to not feel culpable. At her lowest moments, she had realised that she really  _had_  allowed herself to adapt to her surroundings.

To adapt to living within the Fire Nation.

And that felt wrong. Painfully wrong.

* * *

"Katara?"

She didn't appear to have heard him. Iroh approached carefully from the side, taking the seat next to the dispirited waterbender who was blankly staring out at the city. After a few minutes of waiting for Katara to register that she had company, he tentatively reached out and placed his hand on her arm. He could feel the shock ripple through her arm as she startled, hazy blue eyes flashed towards him.

"Katara, I'm worried about you. Please tell me how I can help."

Confusion raced across her face, before tears welled up in the corners of Katara's eyes. "I don't think you can help me."

"I want to try."

"How? I don't even understand what is happening to me," Katara exclaimed, frustration seeping into her voice. "I feel lost and angry a-and  _so_   _guilty_."

"Katara, why do you feel guilty?" Iroh asked, surprised. "You have no reason to."

"Yes I do!" she said, defiantly. "I keep forgetting to be sad. I catch myself enjoying something and it just seems  _completely_  wrong to me."

"You're allowed to feel happy again," Iroh explained. "You aren't going to feel fine all the time. There will be moments where all of this will hit you like an earthquake that you won't see coming. It will feel like the ground has been ripped out from beneath you and you will be desperately grasping for anything to hold you in place," he continued, squeezing her arm. "That is normal. And you  _will_  learn how to deal with those moments, I promise you."

Silent tears spilled over, tracing glimmering paths down Katara's cheeks. Sniffing, she dashed them away with her other hand, ducking her head. But she didn't move her arm.

"Katara, no one should have to spend their life an empty husk of their former selves," he said gently. "I sincerely hope that will not be your fate, it would be a tragedy if it was."

With a slight nod of her head, Katara reached over her opposite hand and placed it on top of his hand. He could barely hear the shaky agreement but the meaning was there.

"It is hard to see the light from where you currently stand, but you are far stronger than you realise you are, and you will see it again one day," Iroh said, smiling as the girl finally returned her eyes to him. His heart felt a little fuller when her lips slowly creeped upwards. Katara looked exhausted but he thought there may be some further assistance he could provide.

"Would it help if you could send a message to your father and brother?" Iroh asked. "It could even be just to let them know that you are safe."

Eyes wide, Katara nodded vigorously jumping up from her chair with an enthusiasm he hadn't seen from the girl in over a week.

"How about we figure out what to write to them and if you write something down today, I will send it tonight."

* * *

"Mom, I'm worried about Katara," Zuko announced that night. Multiple days had passed with infrequent contact from his friend, tugging the prince down into a melancholic state. "She doesn't seem to be happy."

"I know Zuko," his mother sighed, sitting down on his bed and pulling the blankets up around his face. "I just think she is missing her family. It's understandable, but I know Iroh is worried about her as well."

"Uncle said she can't go home," he asked. "Is that true?"

She shook her head. "It is, she can't unfortunately."

"Oh," Zuko paused, thinking. "How do I make her feel better then?"

His mother smiled at him, brushing dark strands away from his face. "By being there for her as a friend," she said simply. "She needs you, she's just trying to cope with a lot of other emotions at the moment."

"Ok," Zuko replied quietly.

"Get some sleep, you never know, she might be up to a bit more tomorrow," she said, squeezing his hand as she leant over and kissed his forehead before leaving.

Zuko stared at the ceiling before rolling onto his side, trying to still his thoughts.

"I heard your little friend is feeling the cold."

A mocking voice sent him bolt upright in bed, sparking annoyance at the familiar tone. Azula was leaning casually against the door frame, arms crossed and smirking at his expression.

"Seems a bit odd, don't you think," she continued. "A waterbender who gets more miserable as winter approaches, it's strange."

"Go away, Azula," Zuko replied, slumping back against the headboard.

"You know, I was just thinking the other day that Dad is due back soon," Azula said, smug eyes affixed on his. "You would of course be aware of that."

"Of course I know that," the boy said indignantly. "What's your point?"

"I'm surprised Zuzu, I would have thought that even you would be able to suspect his reaction to finding his son has made a new friend. Of course you had to choose one with such a distasteful ancestry."

"Grandfather has let her stay, why would Dad have a problem with Katara?"

Rolling her golden eyes at him, Azula dryly danced around the question. "Your naivety is as entertaining as always."

Zuko let out an irritated groan, sliding back under the covers. "You're impossible."

Peals of laughter reached his retreated position, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried to ignore her amusement. "If you say so."

He heard a scoffing noise, as Azula realised that she had lost the attention of her intended victim. His sister threw out one last remark as she left his room, one that chilled his blood, sending shivers down his spine despite the heavy weight of the blankets.

"Sleep well, Zuzu, better enjoy your little friendship while it lasts."


	13. Smouldering

"What's a tsungi horn?"

Katara held back a snort at how quickly Zuko tensed at her question, colour quickly rising in the prince's face.

"A musical instrument. It's like a metal horn," he said hesitantly. "Why?"

"Iroh told me you were at lessons this morning," Katara explained, amused at Zuko's obvious reluctance to answer the question. "He said you're very good."

The boy scoffed. "No, I'm not."

"He told me that I could probably get you to play me a song if I asked nicely."

Zuko's face scrunched up in distaste. "Of course he would say that," he said. "Uncle's always trying to get me to play for people. I don't really like playing in public."

"Oh. It's okay, I understand," Katara said. "Just so you know, I'll eventually get you to."

"I'd like to see you try," he grumbled.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Definitely not."

Katara hummed in response and grinned at the grumpy boy. It was now abundantly clear why Iroh had thought Zuko's schedule was essential information to relay this morning. She appreciated the distraction. After feeling horribly upset for the last few weeks, successfully winding up Zuko was helping her feel almost normal again.

It was an unseasonably temperate wintry day. Warm rays cascaded over her face. She could hear the calls of adventurous birds nesting above the balcony and, of course, the sulky prince muttering next to her about stupid music lessons and traitorous uncles. Katara sank back into her chair and smiled contentedly. Moments like this were precious.

Speaking with Iroh had put some things into perspective. Emptiness at the loss of her family and her home seeped into her life, but she was trying to focus on letting go of her guilt at moments of enjoyment. Moments such as the one experienced yesterday, on a miserably wet Fire Nation day while watching Ursa beat a shocked Iroh at Pai Sho. Katara and Zuko had fallen back into the couch, leaning against each other as they both descended into hysterics, tears streaming down their faces and gasping for breath. Zuko made it easier to forget her heartache, giving her strength to throw herself back into learning her waterbending and her healing.

Progress was slow but constant, bringing with a renewed sense of self-worth and pride. A recent accomplishment had come from successfully streaming water around her hands - like a snake chasing its tail – after weeks of failing.

Grief continued to hit her in waves. Those waves were lessening, their impact not always as crushing but there were still times that it was relentless and all consuming. Still nights spent curled in the middle of a bed far too large for her, distraught at the realisation that her life would never return to the one that she had before the Fire Nation ship had arrived at her village.

She had written a short yet hopeful message to her father - one that mentioned that she was alive and well but was unable to come back home. It was unlikely to make her father feel any better about the whole situation, but at least he would recognise her handwriting and know she was safe. As safe as she could be. She had added a message at the end telling Sokka that she had her own room, hoping that the teasing might make him smile.

"Why are you glaring at me like that, nephew?" Iroh's arrival brought her back and she grinned up at him, her cheerfulness contrasting with the prince's surly mood.

"Did you really have to tell Katara about the tsungi horn?"

"Of course! You play it beautifully and I thought you would want to show off your skills to her at some stage," Iroh replied, winking at his nephew.

"I don't play it very well," Zuko protested under his breath.

"We can agree to disagree. I think you are very talented, Zuko," Iroh said, placing his hand on the prince's shoulder. "Surprisingly though, I didn't come out here just to sing your musical praises," he added, ignoring the expression of disgust forming on Zuko's face at his segue. "Instead, I was thinking that we could use your talents in firebending later this afternoon."

"Firebending?"

"I thought it may be time to get both you and Katara to use your elements together," Iroh explained. "You could learn to dissipate water and she could learn to extinguish a flame."

Uncertainly, Katara looked at her friend. "Do you actually think I'm ready for that?"

"I think so. It can't hurt to try," Iroh replied. Noticing her hesitation, he continued. "I won't let either of you hurt each other, I promise. Don't look so nervous Katara."

Katara's eye rolling was interrupted by the arrival of a servant at the entrance to the balcony. He bowed deeply before requesting a word with Iroh, who followed them back inside.

"Wonder what that's about?" Katara asked, resulting in a shrug from the prince. "It's going to be weird learning how to defend myself against your element…" she continued, her voice trailing off.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem quite right," said Zuko. A cheeky grin spread out across his face. "I guess it could be fun to beat you when we can actually spar though."

"Who said you'd beat me?"

"I've watched you train. I am clearly the superior bender."

Katara scowled at him. "For now, maybe. You're naïve if you think that will last for long."

"You can threaten all you like about the future. I will sleep well tonight knowing that you have conceded that I would be the victor if we fought today."

Humming, Katara kicked a foot out, finding the prince's shin and giggling when she received an outraged yelp in response. "Not really sure if I conceded anything but you are welcome to lull yourself into a false sense of security."

Throat clearing returned their attention to Iroh, Katara noticing the tension in his shoulders. "Change of plans, we are going to need to move our training session to tomorrow."

"What happened?"

"Your grandfather has called a council meeting," Iroh said. Their mumbling confusion caused him to explain further, raising a hand and slowly stroking his beard as he spoke. "It's likely that someone has docked for the night. It seems to be a fairly routine update and I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. I shouldn't be gone for long."

His words did little to dissuade the worry Katara felt at the general's change in demeanour. Iroh left both of them in silence, the jovial mood from their morning having abandoned them as they stared blankly at each other.

* * *

Iroh was not the only person wary of the circumstances leading to the summoning of the war council. The tension in the throne room was evident as soon as he entered, despite there only being a scattering of people who had arrived before him. He took his position on the right of his father's empty throne, which gave him the perfect view for the parade of apprehensive faces filing in to the cavernous chamber, including that of Minister Shan. The absence of his father was not unusual. It was customary for him to arrive once the other members had assembled, but Iroh was hoping for some indication as to what had occurred. He suspected his father had reasons for keeping him in the dark along with the others, but this thought provided little comfort.

It did not take long for each of the council members to make their way in, kneeling alongside the elaborate map spread out on the table between them. Their expressions made it clear that the urgency of the summons had not been lost on any of them. Surprised, he noticed a familiar face arrive. Iroh had celebrated General Kuo's retirement only a year ago. Confused by the lack of any acknowledgement from his old friend beyond the customary bow, Iroh started to slowly tap his fingers quietly on the side of the seat. Something was not right. He needed to calm the quickening of his heart rate.

The wall of fire erupted as his father entered the throne room and the war council reacted appropriately. As his father sat down, Iroh tried to sneak an assessing glance at the man sitting on his left. Iroh was not surprised when Azulon's face gave away nothing. His father had a gift for withholding all expression, a talent that made him a respected but unpredictable Fire Lord. This occasion was no exception.

The continued silence was stifling. Tension quickly rose in the room. Confused by the lack of reasoning for the meeting, Iroh decided to broach the topic. He addressed the throne room, calling on Minister Ren for an update. He noticed the man stiffen at the use of his name, the friction in the room unnerving even the Minister of Intelligence.

Gathering himself, Minister Ren stood and bowed towards the thrones. "Thank you General Iroh. I do not have a lot to add since our meeting yesterday; however we continue to receive reports of uprisings in the Eastern region of the Earth Kingdom. We note that there have been some developments in the last few days as mentioned yesterday."

Nodding, Iroh confirmed the details of yesterday's meeting. "You're referring to the standoff between Fire Nation soldiers and some Earth Kingdom vigilantes outside Baoju?" Out of the corner of his eye, Iroh noticed a faint twitch in his father's jaw. "Please elaborate on the developments, Minister."

"We had suspected that the rebellions were being fuelled from soldiers coming from a few villages in the surrounding areas. This information had been passed to me from sources in the field and relayed to the commanders in the area," Ren continued, dulled yellow eyes focussed on Iroh.

Minister Ren, formerly a highly respected General, was renowned for his acutely strategic mind and ability to reveal only what was required at any moment. His reluctance to cast his view on anyone else in the chamber suggested that Iroh was going to need to draw the information from the man. From his father's reaction, this was the information that Azulon was aware of and yet, Ren was holding back. Iroh narrowed his eyes at the Minister and nodded curtly at him to carry on with his report.

"This morning we received a report that a contingent of soldiers from outside the immediate area razed one of these villages as a result."

"Who was leading the contingent?"

"Colonel Mongke, sir."

The name was familiar. Iroh had met with the leader of the Rough Rhinos on numerous occasions. Ruthless, cruel, power hungry, with an apparent undivided loyalty for the Fire Nation. Iroh had always been suspicious of the man; he had long suspected the Colonel's loyalty was only to himself, the Fire Nation merely providing a desirable vessel for acting out his violent and unpredictable tendencies. Iroh would not trust him to hold back from an opportunity to exert a perceived revenge for a rebellion.

A thought struck him suddenly.  _Wait._  Wasn't Mongke enlisted with- "Were they under orders?"

Ren's eye twitched, creases forming around his mouth for a second before the façade returned. "We have yet to receive confirmation of that, sir."

"Under whose orders?"

Ren broke Iroh's glance, looking briefly at the Fire Lord before back at Iroh. Iroh could have sworn he saw the minster's hands clench for a moment. "It is unclear whether they were under orders. There are rumours that they went rogue," Ren reiterated, grim eyes set on Iroh, boring through, willing him to ask the question.

Now certain what answer was coming, Iroh's stomach sunk. He still had to ask the question.

"Minister Ren, who was the commanding officer?"

Eyes twitching, the minister bowed his head, speaking in a steady and respectful voice. Despite his certainty of the answer, the reveal caused him to tense as he observed the council's nervous glances.

"Prince Ozai, sir."

Iroh turned to his father, starting when he realised that the Fire Lord was scrutinising his reaction. Without taking his eyes off his son, Azulon barked out an order and the chamber was emptied without hesitation.

"You knew?" Iroh asked. Pursed lips answered his question. "Why bring everyone here if you already knew what had happened?"

"No point in raising further rumours around the Palace. Your response made it clear that you were unaware of these events. The war council will be convinced that nothing has been hidden from them," Azulon said simply.

"You used me."

"Perhaps." The Fire Lord shrugged nonchalantly, cold eyes never leaving Iroh's face. At close range, the fury in their depths was apparent. "But if your brother is going to embarrass me like this, at the very least I refuse to let his bad decisions be aligned with me. Your ignorance to his actions was a good step in distancing this from us."

"Do we know he ordered it?"

"Does it matter? Either he ordered them or he lost control of them. Pick one and convince me that I should be proud of his so-called leadership skills."

"So what do you intend to do?"

"Call him back. If he's lost control of the soldiers, he is no longer useful in the field."

"You're suggesting we send General Kuo out to replace him?"

"Precisely. Call them back in. We need to prepare a strategy to shut down these uprisings before any further embarrassment falls on this family. Ozai will need to explain himself to me when he returns."

"Yes, sir," Iroh said. He stood, making his way down the stairs and striding across the vast floor, eyes trained on the door ahead of him.

"And Iroh?"

At his father's warning tone of voice, Iroh stilled and turned back to the Fire Lord. Azulon conveyed an omnipresent power worthy of his position, drawing himself up as he viewed his son through the flames. The fire separating the two men greedily flared at their master's emotion, betraying the previously concealed wrath. There were few moments in his life that Iroh had feared his father, but at that moment, he empathised with the witless peasants, traitors or offending ministers who had been forced to witness judgment passed down through the flames.

Steepled fingers pressed into the Fire Lord's chin, nails cutting into the vulnerable skin as Azulon continued. "I expect you to rethink your strategy regarding Ba Sing Se. Subjugation of the Earth Kingdom will be the only solution for this rebellious onslaught our soldiers are facing."

Iroh nodded, giving the only acceptable answer. "Yes, Father."

"While their capital stands, hope will remain. Without hope, the Earth Kingdom will fall."

* * *

The sun had risen.

Delicate bird whistles and the rustlings of small animals reached his ears. The fresh scent of dew filled his nose, and the calm of the moment was palpable. The dawning of a new day.

A mockery of what occurred during the night.

The boy crouched beneath the shrub, curled up in the same position he had stayed since he had fled the town. After stumbling through the forest, trying to avoid the search of those men and their monstrous beasts they rode atop, his legs had given out and he had thrown himself into the nearest source of shelter. His back ached, his legs had lost feeling hours ago, but the terror that flowed through him urged the muscles to remain tensed.

Ready to move again. Ready to run.

Blinking eyes heavy from fatigue, the boy unclenched his hand slowly, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm at the foreign movement. He placed the hand over an empty and grumbling stomach, pressing his eyes shut at the wave of nausea that ran through him.

As the day slowly passed and the lack of unfamiliar sounds emboldened him, the boy dozed in and out of a hazy sleep, each time waking to an increasingly stiffened and aching body. Eventually he emerged from a restless dream to the sound of bustling animals, the sight of dimmed light, a forest preparing itself for the night. Painfully, he shifted himself into a seated position, sluggishly stretching out each limb before pushing himself to his feet.

Willing himself to leave his haven and afraid to lose the light, the boy stepped out from the bush. Grimacing at his lethargic muscles, he moved through the trees, hesitating at moments to strain his ears, trying to hear any semblance of their return. Each time he only picked up the usual sounds of the woodland. Distracted by his continued alarm, he tripped over a large branch, sprawling over the forest floor. Pressing scraped and bleeding hands into the bracken below him, he grabbed the branch as he regained his footing.

As he reached the hill that led to his village, the heat struck him like a wave. His dry eyes stung and his breath caught in his throat. Even a day later, the air was suffocating. He felt beads of sweat forming along his hairline, dampening the strands of hair falling across his face. A shaky breath before the boy shut his eyes, clenching his fists as he steeled himself.

The fire was gone. The desolation spread in front of him seemed removed from the inferno that had blazed the night before. Blackened skeletons were all that remained of the first houses as he descended the hill; the ground was warm, but not warm enough to stop him. Blankets of soot covered his view, layering across the once-familiar path into his village.

Mouth dry, the boy dragged his stick through the still warmed ash as he staggered through the remnants of his village, moving slowly towards his destination. As he reached the wreckage of his home, the threatening tears spilled over, tracking sooty trails down his face. Jagged spikes from the supporting walls were all that remained of the front room, the roof having caved in on itself from the destruction of the flames.

A painful sob escaped him at a stark realisation. No one could have gotten out.

He had no idea how long he stood there. Slowly realising his hand still encircled the stick, the boy moved the piercing end through the amassed soot stretched across what used to be the front of his home. Tracing the one thing that remained of them.

Shakily looped letters. Two names.

Gulping, he looked at the names, rivets flowing down his face. He dashed an angry hand across them, smearing the tears and the soot, blurring his vision.

It's not right. He was supposed to be with them. They were supposed to be together.

Why weren't they together?

The gravity of being left alone hit him, racking his body with spasms as he gasped for air. No longer having the strength to wipe his face, the tears flowed freely through the ash, blood and grime.

Eyelashes heavy, he slowly drew a third name below them. His own name. A gasping laugh escaped his lips. This looked better. This felt right. This is how it should have been.

He couldn't turn away. To do so would be to leave them. He didn't want to leave them. The moon shone an eerie glow upon the scene as the boy stood there. He stared blankly at the names, unable to tear his eyes from the remaining symbol of his family being together. Reading those names over and over again, almost as if he could will them into living.

Mom.

Dad.

Jet.


	14. A Palate Cleanser

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Thank you so much to everybody for reading and reviewing! You have all given me a much-needed boost through a draining few weeks. We are a few chapters away from a time skip - and also around the halfway point of the first arc – so I figured we were well overdue for some decent Katara and Zuko time. Enjoy!

 

The sun had set before Uncle returned from the council meeting.

Each hour that passed fed the cloud of uncertainty hanging over Zuko and Katara. The clamour heralding Uncle's reappearance in the wing caused both of the children to jump to their feet, apprehensively heading towards the noise. Uncle looked drained. As he noticed their arrival, he smiled widely. The smile did not reach his eyes; eyes that betrayed an exhaustion that had materialised during the man's absence.

"How was your afternoon?"

The cheerful greeting did nothing to dissuade Zuko. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing is wrong. I was delayed visiting your mother on the way back here," Iroh said. "We received word that your father is heading back to the Palace."

"Father? Why- Is something wrong?" Zuko repeated. "Is he injured? Did something happen at the council meeting?"

"No, he isn't injured. He has been called back to provide information on some movements in the Earth Kingdom. It's nothing to concern yourself with, Zuko."

"But-"

"I went to speak to your mother about the news, which is why I was late. She has asked for you to return home," Iroh's tone was firm, the meaning clear. This was the end of the conversation.

Zuko's shuffled his feet sheepishly. "Yes, Uncle."

"Can I walk with him?" Katara asked, her small voice breaking through the tense silence.

Uncle observed the girl, before nodding. "Yes, but don't be too long."

No words passed between them as they walked past the guards and out into the hallway. Katara appeared to become gradually more uncomfortable with the silence, squirming and fidgeting with her hands as they turned around the third corner in the labyrinth towards his family's wing.

Eventually, an arm was placed in front of Zuko, bringing him to a halt next to Katara. He turned to face her, wishing he could be amused by the emotional contortions playing out across her face. Unlike his sister, Katara seemed unable to hide what she was feeling. It was one of the traits he appreciated about his friend.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes."

Katara wasn't convinced. "Because you don't seem to be okay, and I would understand why you wouldn't be okay, because Iroh didn't really tell you why your dad was coming back," she blurted out, speaking quickly as her hands waved around carelessly. When Zuko didn't move to stop her, she continued, sounding increasingly out of breath. "But it sounds like your dad is okay and-and- you're acting weird…and what I'm trying to say is pleasejusttalktome."

It was an odd feeling, watching someone talk themselves into breathlessness just to express their worry about him. Expressing concern for something he couldn't even put into words. Zuko didn't even understand why he was feeling so strange about his father coming back. How could he tell her when he didn't even know? But as Katara tried to catch her breath in front of him, her eyes imploring, Zuko couldn't help but want to try.

"I thought I had longer."

The pleading look quickly descended into confusion. "Longer?"

"Till he came back," Zuko explained, before quickly correcting the meaning of his words. "I mean, so I could improve my firebending before he returned to the Palace."

"I'm sure you've gotten better since he left," Katara said. "Weren't you declaring your prowess earlier today?" she added, a teasing note entering her voice.

"It's not the same," he quietly answered.

Tears threatening, Zuko squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her. This was ridiculous. There was no reason to be this upset. A shudder passed down his spine as he ran through the last week of firebending lessons, trying to remember if he was any better than when his father had left. Lost in thought, it took a few moments to register the tingling sensation up his arm as Katara's hand brushed against it. Cool fingers skimmed down his wrist, slowly intertwining with his. Zuko opened his eyes to see concerned pools of blue focussed on him.

Katara gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she apologised. "I'm sorry, Zuko; I didn't mean to tease you. Please tell me what's going on."

"I don't understand what is wrong with me. I should be happy. No, I am happy," Zuko said.

"But you're unsure if you've improved enough to – what –  _impress_  him?"

"It's-it's not just that. It's to show that I'm taking my position seriously. I'm his eldest child and I'm fourth in line for the throne," Zuko explained, shoulders slumping. "I don't want to let him down. Anything other than excelling in firebending is not an option."

"I'm sure you will be fine."

"You don't know that," Zuko snapped.

Katara winced at his tone but she didn't withdraw her hand. Feeling remorseful, he squeezed her hand back in a silent apology. Katara's resulting smile absolved some of the guilt.

"Could you practise with Iroh?" she suggested after a moment. "I'm sure he would be happy to help you."

"I don't know-"

"Oh! He could train you tomorrow after our joint lesson!"

Katara looked positively victorious at her proposed solution. Zuko couldn't help but feel slightly better at the beaming grin of his friend. Well, it was a start. The excited girl was tugging his arm waiting for an answer. He rolled his eyes before offering a grateful smile.

"I guess that could work," he said. "Thanks."

"Also I've decided that I'm declaring this 'Cheer Up Zuko' week."

The prince narrowed his eyes. "That is a terrible idea. What does that even mean?"

With a mischievous smile, Katara pulled her hand out of his. Zuko tried to ignore how empty it felt to have her hand removed from his grip. He was distracted though by his friend comically winking at him, before bowing deeply.

"Katara, seriously, what are you doing?"

"I am officially declaring myself available to the royal position of Official Prince Cheerer. I wish to be the authorised defender of Prince Zuko's temperament. It will be a temporary role but one that I would be honoured to accept." She gestured in an overly ingratiating manner.

Zuko looked at her in exasperation. At the resulting silence, Katara peeked up from her bow. "You have to anoint me for the position to take effect."

"I'm not doing that," Zuko said, fighting to keep the frustration in his voice as amusement crept in. "You're being silly."

"Ah, but isn't being silly the whole point of this?"

Zuko scoffed, running his hands over his face. " _Fine!_  Can you stop bowing now?"

"Not until you say it."

"I'm not saying it."

"Then I will continue to bow."

" _Why_  do you do this to me? You are the most ridiculous girl I've ever met."

A cheeky grin broke out across Katara's upturned face. "Thank you, your highness."

The prince groaned. "What do I have to do to make this torture end?"

"I can't believe they haven't taught you such a useful skill yet," Katara teased, giggling at his expression. "You obviously have to declare me the Official Prince Cheerer. You may also want to say some kind words about me or express encouragement in my ability to carry out my duties," she continued, before returning her eyes to the floor.

It didn't matter that Zuko didn't know the correct words to induct Katara into her ridiculous role. It didn't matter that Katara wasn't bowing properly and couldn't stop giggling. By the end of the "ceremony", he knew that she had fulfilled her first task in her new role.

He did feel better.

Katara had an uncanny ability to crawl under his skin, ease his worries and make him feel happy. That feeling remained after he arrived home; after talking to his mother, and after fending off mocking comments from Azula.

Even when the fears of the day threatened to sink back into his mind, he found himself brought back to that farce of a ceremony and his giggling friend.

* * *

The comedy of the night before dissipated with the reality of the early morning training.

Katara and Zuko followed Iroh through the Palace, taking the path to their usual practice room. Dragging her feet, Katara found it increasingly hard to stop shaking. The very idea of a firebender evaporating her water - taking away the tiny amount of power she had - terrified her. Since the incident in the Palace gardens, both Iroh and Zuko had been particularly careful to firebend as little as possible around her. She appreciated it, but sheltering her wasn't going to work forever.

If she wanted to learn how to waterbend - how to really defend herself - she needed to practice against a firebender.

Against Zuko.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves. She would not let this element continue to frighten her. It wasn't like fire itself was inherently scary. Back home, fire was used to keep them warm, cook their food and heat metal to forge their tools and weapons. In the Water Nation, fire was a practical tool; here, it was a way of life that pervaded everything. Even as she walked down the now-familiar hallways, torches lined the walls, lighting the way and surging as her companions passed them. Fire was everywhere.

Sucking in a breath, she felt a shoulder bump against hers. Turning to find an encouraging smile on Zuko's face, calmness washed through her. She just needed to think of this as a regular lesson - but one she got to spend with her friend. There was nothing to worry about. Recognising the intention to soothe her nerves, Katara sent back a grateful smile at the prince's efforts.

By the time Iroh had set up the room for them to begin, nerves had transformed into bottled excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Progress in her training had been pitifully slow over the last five months. She knew she had improved. Moving water, controlling its movement between her hands, required less concentration than those first draining lessons. But despite Iroh's calm reassurance that she had improved tremendously, each week had felt like a continuous repetition of the same motions over and over again. At the very least, today's lesson would be something different. Involving Zuko, rather than leaving him a sulky observer on the sidelines, would also have a positive effect on the prince's mood.

Under Iroh's instruction, they began with their usual exercises, designed to warm up their muscles before the lesson. The preliminaries done, the two children stood opposite each other - Katara next to the jug of water and Zuko a few paces from her. Katara focussed on Iroh, Zuko on his feet.

"I understand why you may be nervous about this," Iroh said. "Katara, if you would prefer, I can create a flame for you to douse instead?"

Katara noticed Zuko glance at her uncertainly. She shook her head, smiling reassuringly at him. "No, I'm okay. I want to learn with Zuko," she said, beaming back at Iroh. "I'm ready."

Iroh took a step back, gesturing that Zuko begin. The prince turned his hand over, a small flame blossoming from his palm, flickering for a few moments before growing. Once it had steadied, Zuko raised his eyes to his uncle.

"Right Katara, it is your turn to bring some water up," Iroh explained, nodding as she followed his instructions. "Now, carefully stream the water," he continued as the girl moved the water around until it became a uniform flow tracking her swaying hands. "Excellent. Walk slowly towards Zuko and when you get close enough, move the water in a constant stream in front of you until it passes through the flame. Try and keep your eyes on the water."

Focussing on the movement of her hands, Katara took a tiny step forward and then another until she could see Zuko emerge into the forefront of her vision. The appearance of the prince broke her concentration, the water wavering. It only lasted a moment before she retained control of the water. Breathe in. Breathe out. Fearing the consequences of blinking, she moved closer before the outline of the flame reached her view. She raised her hands slightly and drew the stream through the orange glow, sending hissing steam dancing outwards. Zuko appeared to start at the sound, blinking at the extinguished space above his hands. She sent the remnants of the water back to its vessel. Katara turned to Iroh to see him proudly beaming at her.

"That was an excellent start!" Iroh exclaimed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm proud of you both."

Despite the initial success, the movements were repeated over and over again for the next hour. Not every attempt worked but Katara's motions gradually became smoother, her concentration holding steady. Declaring that it was time for some tea, Iroh suggested they would change the roles after the break, before hurrying off. Katara was surprised to see Zuko tense at his uncle's words, hands fisted at his sides.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can firebend at you."

"Why?"

"Why not? The last time I did, you ended up in a hospital wing."

"Oh," Katara said, wincing at the memory. "But that was an accident. You didn't mean to and no one will be knocking you off balance today."

"But what if I lose control again?"

"You won't."

"Why are you not nervous about this?"

"I am, but I know you aren't going to hurt me. I trust you, Zuko."

Gulping, Zuko stared at her before shaking his head. "I really don't understand you sometimes."

"I know." Katara shrugged, grinning as Iroh rejoined them.

The break passed in the usual way: praise from Iroh, compliments on the tea, stories from Zuko's childhood. When the conversation turned to stories from Iroh's days learning firebending, Katara peeked at Zuko and decided to pipe up.

"Iroh, could you please train Zuko for the next week?"

Iroh stopped talking abruptly, eyes widening. He placed his tea down calmly, looking at his nephew. "Of course," he said. "If that is what Zuko wants?"

Zuko cleared his throat quietly. "I would appreciate it, Uncle."

Poorly concealed concern filled Iroh's eyes as he nodded in agreement. "We can run through a few things after the second half of the lesson with Katara."

Relieved, Katara nudged Zuko in solidarity. She received a soft smile in response, the tension drained from the boy's face. Returning to her half-filled teacup, she caught a glimpse of an unreadable expression on Iroh's face. A blink and it was gone. Distracted, she fiddled with the edge of her cup. She could hear Iroh and Zuko speaking and she lifted her gaze to meet Iroh's eyes. The only response was his usual smile. The strange moment had passed.

With the tea finished, they resumed their positions facing each other. Katara's hands shook, but she drew her water up, holding it in front of her in the familiar stream. Flicking her eyes up towards Zuko, she sent a heartening smile his way. The prince looked paler than usual, but determined. He nodded awkwardly back at her but his lips quirked up at the edge.

Her eyes reverted to the water and she focussed on her breath. Staring at Zuko wasn't going to help either of them. Iroh instructed him through a similar process. The key difference was that Zuko had to increase the intensity of the flame after he moved it under the water, evaporating it in the process. Katara saw his feet shuffle forward carefully as he coaxed the flame towards her. Her heart was thumping in her chest, the sound drowning out the hiss of the flame.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Katara forced her focus back on her element, drawing from its serenity to pacify the fear threatening to rise in her belly. Distantly, she heard Iroh ask a question, which a weak voice responded. A voice that sounded eerily familiar to hers.

Familiar hands came into her vision, an amber flame dancing above them. This close, Katara could discern the variations in colour spanning outwards from the centre of the flickering display. The flowing movements reminded her of the motions of water. They swirled together, swaying together, drawing her in. It was beautiful. Terrifying, but undeniably beautiful.

She looked up at her friend. The fire between them was mirrored in golden eyes watching her intently. Zuko whispered a question. She nodded with a slight smile, before returning her concentration to the water. She let the water overtake her thoughts once more.

Iroh's instructions broke through the moment. The flame sputtered before surging through the water. Evaporated droplets scattered. Katara recoiled at the hiss, squeezing her eyes shut. The sensations overwhelmed her, dragging her memories back to the Gardens. She could feel the heat crawling over her skin again. Breathe. Iroh was saying something in a calm, even voice, but she couldn't make sense of the words that felt so far away. Breathe. She wasn't there. She wasn't covered in fire. Breathe.

She could feel hands grip her shoulders, shaking her. She could hear her name and opened her eyes to see wide, golden ones.

Zuko.

"Katara?"

"I-I'm okay."

Eyes narrowed, Zuko turned to his Uncle. "Is she?"

Iroh crouched in front of her and asked what had happened. The feeling of warmth on Katara's skin had retreated, her heart beat slowing down from its erratic pace.

"I-I just felt too hot. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for. Are you still feeling unwell?"

She shook her head, feeling calmer with every moment passing.

"I think you should take a short break. I can run Zuko through his exercises and we can see if you are able to try again afterwards," Iroh said gently.

Feeling exhausted, Katara nodded and let Iroh shepherd her towards one of the seats. Iroh returned to Zuko, putting a hand on the concerned boy's shoulder and saying a few quiet words Katara couldn't catch. They started to move through some firebending exercises.

Katara watched the hypnotic flow of flames, surprised that this did not provoke the same fear. The distance provided refuge from the heat, the sizzling and the memories close proximity to fire evoked. She could push that to the back of her mind and focus on how different Zuko's lessons were to her own.

Firebenders seemed to focus on power; golden arcs created through forceful movements in contrast to the flowing movements Iroh had been teaching Katara. Despite this, there was a grace in the connecting motions; the sweep of a leg before terminating in a sharp kick, the echoed movements of opposing arms before an arc of fire rose above the bender. For Iroh, firebending was obviously an extension of himself and each sequence was effortless, yet polished. Katara wasn't surprised by this.

However, she was stunned to see that, teasing banter aside, Zuko was obviously right. He was a superior bender to her. He didn't have the refined bending of his uncle and the exercises appeared to be straightforward. But he moved through them with little hesitation and far more ease than Katara worked through comparable exercises. There were a few mistakes made, moments the flow was broken and the prince appeared to be getting gradually more frustrated. These errors were minimal and Katara, impressed by her friend's ability, longed for the day she could spar against him.

Sighing, she realised that, for this to be possible, she would need to get past the events of the Palace Garden. Even, if it was just so she could one day match Zuko in her bending ability.

* * *

This was so  _embarrassing_. Why couldn't he get anything right?

When Katara suggested he get some extra lessons from Uncle, their plan seemed faultless. They were wrong. Every mistake caused Zuko to wince, hammering away at his confidence. What was he thinking? Showing his uncle how far behind he had fallen would just lead to another person being disappointed with his bending. It would just highlight how much better Azula was. His elbow shook as he lost concentration. The fire expelled from his fist wavered and expired.

"You're getting frustrated. Focus on your breath. Try it again."

At Uncle's instructions, Zuko dragged in a shaky breath followed by a deeper, smoother one before starting the exercise again. This time the movements held and the flame that surged forward did not falter. It wasn't as powerful as Zuko had intended but he had completed the exercise correctly.

"That was much better Zuko," Uncle said encouragingly. "You know the exercises. You just need to remain calm, trust your ability and I'm sure your father will be impressed."

"Thank you, Uncle."

"We'll try the next sequence tomorrow. I think it's time to see how Katara is going."

Uncle spoke to Katara before she came back over. A moment of trepidation passed between the children as they stood across from each other before Katara leaned in.

"You were great," she whispered.

"Really? But I made so many mistakes?" replied Zuko, unconvinced.

The girl shook her head vigorously. "No, you didn't. You're really good," she said, smiling at him. "I want to be good enough to spar against you someday."

He couldn't help it. Katara's certainty in his abilities elicited a bashful smile and a burst of pride in his chest. "Thank you," he replied quietly, nodding in shy acknowledgement.

Uncle returned, placing a hand on Katara's shoulder. She shut her eyes, physically trying to relax herself.

"Are you ready to try again?" Uncle asked her, squeezing her shoulder.

She nodded and as Uncle stepped back, she pulled the water to her again. Unwavering blue eyes latched onto his, a focus Zuko wasn't expecting lurking in them.

Uncle instructed him through the process again: a small flame blooming above his hands, stepping forward cautiously until the flame was flickering underneath the stream of water Katara wielded. Hesitating, Zuko silently checked how Katara was going. The same fierce determination still blazed within her unblinking eyes. Listening to Iroh's instructions, he slowly breathed in and focussed on sinking his chi into the flame cradled in his hands, carefully giving his flame more juice.

As before, the fire coursed upwards, searing through the snaking water. The stream vaporised, sending tiny beads of hissing water spiralling. Katara flinched, ripping her hands back towards her face. For a moment, Zuko thought that she had returned to the panicked state they had coaxed her from after the last attempt. But Katara's nerves held steady, the trembling hands brought down from her face the only remaining sign of the shock the exercise had caused. Zuko grabbed them without thinking, hoping the action would ease the shaking and the last indication that Katara could be scared of his element. Scared of him. Eyes wide, Katara looked a little shocked at his impulsiveness before an immense grin split across her face.

"I did it," she said brightly.

"You did."

Zuko returned the grin, before a purposeful cough disturbed the moment. Hands were dropped before Uncle even finished the offending noise. The prince could feel his cheeks heating up as he tried to look anywhere but towards his uncle or Katara.

It didn't matter. The embarrassment passed, but the achievement remained. As the next few days of lessons passed, both of them improved in their ability to use their elements together. There were still moments where fear would pass across Katara's face and Zuko would feel guilty again. But their confidence kept building and those moments became less frequent.

One afternoon as they neared the end of their training session, a servant had brought a message for Uncle who had excused himself to briefly meet with someone. He allowed them to remain in the training room until his return. They ran through some more exercises before declaring the training over and sinking into chairs. Tea had been brought in and the two friends chatted as they waited for Uncle to return. More than an hour had passed, and Katara was getting restless.

"Where is he?"

"No idea. He didn't really tell us how long he would be," Zuko responded.

"Should we just go?"

The prince shrugged. "I don't think he would have an issue with that. I doubt he expected to be away for this long," he said.

Katara pushed herself up, before offering a hand. Zuko could have sworn she had a suspicious expression as he grasped it but Katara pulled him up with no issues. They headed towards the exit of the room, passing the jug of water along the way.

An escaped giggle was his only warning before he was soaking in water. Katara had coursed water from the jug and sent it right into him, drenching him in one shot. Blinking wet eyelashes, he glared at the cackling girl. Recovering from the disbelief, he reacted faster than she expected, lunging past her. The prince scooped water in his hands, splashing it towards her. His attempt was not as successful but the surprised look on her face was enough to feel slightly vindicated. Only slightly though. He had a second to react before determination returned to flashing blue eyes. Hands were not going to cut it as a vessel here. Decision made, Zuko turned and sprinted back to the tea set.

"You can't use my own element against me!"

"I think I just did."

"Oh, just try and run Zuko!"

The spluttering threats from Katara made him laugh but he couldn't look back. Sliding slightly as he reached the table, he eyed the fruit bowl. He glanced back at the advancing girl, water held in front of her. He definitely needed a shield. Quickly moving the remaining dishes from the tray, Zuko snatched it up along with the bowl. He spun around and ducked away from the table. She was too close. He was at risk of being hit in the back if he ran.

He had one choice to get the upper hand here. Sinking into a defensive position, he held the repurposed shield up in front of him.

"Come on waterbender, what've you got?"

"Iroh is going to be mad at you if you break a tray that brought him tea. You know that's sacred."

"You're terrible at this. Is that really the best threat you've got, princess?"

Katara snarled in response. Zuko held back at snort. She was clearly more wound up than he had anticipated. If he could goad her into wasting her water, he knew he could outrun her back to the jug.

"Is the Prince of the Fire Nation really defending himself with china and pathetic insults?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's obviously working," he replied, poking his head out from around the shield to wink at her.

Jackpot! He had just pulled his head back when a torrent of water hit the tray. It spilled around the outsides and doused his already wet limbs. But it was enough. Holding the tray between them as he passed her, he dashed for the jug. Katara managed to send some water his way, catching his back, before he could hear her trying to catch him. Laughing, he glanced back and stuck his tongue out at her.

Zuko reached the jug first. Scooping water into the bowl, he jumped back in front of the jug, putting his body between Katara and the source of her ammunition. She skidded to a stop, warily stepping back outside his range.

Zuko smirked. "I feel this game hasn't played out the way you expected."

"Game's not over yet," Katara scowled.

"I'm willing to graciously accept your surrender." He inclined his head but his eyes never left her, waiting for any movement. They had spent enough time in lessons together and he had noticed something. Katara had a slight tell, a hint that she was about to pounce into motion. She had yet to learn how to suppress those movements and if he didn't blink, he could catch her.

"You're kidding me," spat Katara, her eyes steeling. "I'm not losing a water fight to a firebender."

He could see the tell-tale shift onto her back foot. "Well that is where you're mistaken, I'm not-"

Katara sprang into action, diving towards the jug. Zuko was faster. The bowl was soon emptied on top of her head. Letting out an indignant cry, Katara dashed the water from her face and scowled at him.

"As I was saying, I'm not firebender right now," he continued, dodging the fuming girl lunging towards him. "Guess what I am, Katara."

She ignored him. Zuko ducked back behind the jug, splashing more water at her.

"I'm a waterbender!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in victory as Katara sent half the contents of the jug towards him. Zuko fell over backwards, laughing hysterically as more water cascaded down. Eventually, Katara gave up on bending and picked up the jug, tipping the remnants on him before bursting into her own giggles. She lay down next to him, both friends clutching their stomachs and laughing themselves breathless. Jug, tray and bowl were strewn across a floor covered with water.

That was how his uncle and mother found them. Both of them winded, but blissfully happy.

* * *

That moment was special.

It had stayed with Ursa throughout the next week, her thoughts often returning to the memory of seeing unabashed joy in her son's face. Seeing Zuko so happy had been a wonderful surprise and one that she did not expect when she ran into Iroh heading back towards the training room.

It was closing in on the winter solstice and the air was crisp as Ursa took an evening stroll through the gardens. Spending time with Katara and his Uncle had made her son happier than he had been in a long time. But she was wary. Her husband was expected back any day now. Among other things, Ozai had inherited the unpredictability of his father. Considering the circumstances he was returning under, it was hard to anticipate his reaction to the changes at the Palace.

Iroh had convinced her that Fire Lord Azulon was accepting of Katara's progress. That praise for her healing had reached his ears. Azulon had also acknowledged to his eldest son that the girl had not brought any particular concern or embarrassment upon him. Most importantly, his decision had not been openly questioned. However, Ursa knew each of these positive signs only provided flimsy building blocks of safety. Despite his convincing words, she knew that Iroh was not oblivious to this either.

Sighing, she returned her mind to that memory. Lost in thought, Ursa nodded absently at the guards as she entered the family's wings, missing the cautious expression they wore. Ursa dragged her fingers across the wall of the old familiar hallway, savouring the texture as she enjoyed the moment of solitude. Both Azula and Zuko had been in bed for a few hours and the halls were peacefully quiet. She turned towards the living area, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold.

A gasp caught in her throat.

The light from the moon spilled past his outline as he stood facing away from her. Long hair cascaded down his back, past broad shoulders that cut an imposing silhouette. She saw the cut lines of his muscles shift beneath his robes as he slowly turned towards her. Golden eyes assessed her before a self-assured smile lazily broke out across his handsome face.

"Hello Ursa."


	15. Ozai Returns

Iroh was already on edge before he entered the Throne Room.

The first blissful cup of tea was interrupted by an urgent message, delivered by a visibly nervous servant. An early morning summons was unlikely to mean anything other than the return of his younger brother. Sighing, he finished his tea before leaving a message with the servant for Katara. The girl had yet to emerge from her bed. Without the same connection to the sun's pathway in the sky, Iroh wondered whether waterbenders had not adapted to early mornings as well as firebenders. Much to the small girl's displeasure, her resultant grumpiness was a frequent source of amusement at her expense. No chance of that entertainment this morning.

Apprehensive glances from the palace servants tracked him as he passed through the hallways. It was to be expected. Even those unaware of the circumstances surrounding Prince Ozai's return had sensed the tension surrounding the Royal Family in the preceding weeks. Rumours festered behind closed doors, crafted theories escalating in scope as to the nature of the younger Prince's impending arrival.

Iroh shared their apprehension. This meeting would bring an answer to the question that had plagued his thoughts since the war council's meeting. Had his brother lost control of his soldiers? Had the Rough Rhinos carried out their own form of justice, ignoring their commanding officer and showing that he did not hold their respect? The alternative was that this had been Ozai's own plan to punish the village, Taijian, for feeding the rebellion. No option was preferable, none that could dissuade the sickening dread that Iroh felt.

Despite Azulon's original dismissiveness, Iroh suspected his father's preference. Cruelty was unlikely to affect the Fire Lord. This war had brought untold casualties and devastation. No, this came down to recklessness or weakness. An ordered rampage on a village would be a reckless move, but not one that would affect the Fire Lord's perceived strength. Lost respect in the Fire Lord's son would have more of a detrimental effect on his father.

Whatever the reason, there was no difference for the village and the surrounding area of the Earth Kingdom. They had suffered a blazing inferno, the decimation of a population, and the loss of its resources. The full consequences of the brutal massacre would become clear only with time, but anybody could have foreseen that such an act had the potential to galvanise the rebellion further.

Pushing these thoughts from his clouded mind, Iroh strode through the curtain to enter the Throne Room. He was not the first to arrive. Despite being ten years Iroh's junior, his younger brother stood taller than him. Dark hair in contrast to Iroh's lighter brown was set in a refined style, appropriate for a meeting with the Fire Lord. Distinguished robes hung from his shoulders, reaching the floor, layers of maroon swaying as Ozai turned to investigate the new arrival.

A sneer broke out across the familiar face. "Brother, what a wonderful surprise."

"Ozai."

"How very formal of you," Ozai replied, dryly. "Now, why would the Crown Prince be here?"

"I have not been told why I've been summoned."

"Summoned?" Ozai asked, a thin eyebrow rising. "I'm hurt, Iroh. Would you not have come to support your younger brother without orders from Father?"

"Maybe you should be focused more on what you are going to say to Father when he gets here."

"Well you haven't changed, have you? Still as stuffy as always, eh Iroh?"

Iroh scowled at his brother. "Do you really think that is helping?"

Ozai chuckled, bringing up a slim hand to peer at it as he twisted his fingers around. "I take it father has requested your presence," he said, dryly. "I'm sure he will look to your excellent judgment when handing down any punishment for my supposed transgressions."

"We both know I have no say in this."

"You are wrong there. Father has always turned to you for advice when he wants it."

"The key word being *when*, it isn't a common occurrence."

"He clearly listened to you about a new addition to the Palace," Ozai said, fingers curling down on themselves as his eyes narrowed at them.

Iroh barely had time to glare in response before the arrival of the Fire Lord interrupted their conversation. Azulon swept into the Throne Room from the side entrance, taking his place on the raised platform without a glance towards his two sons. He raised his head towards them, thin lips pursed as they stepped in front of the throne. The tension in the room was palpable as both Iroh and Ozai bowed to their father, not looking at one another as they awaited his acknowledgement of the reason for the meeting.

"You've returned."

"Yes, Father," Ozai said, bowing again respectively.

"I believe you know why you are here, Ozai," his father responded, cold eyes assessing his youngest son.

"Yes, Father."

"You have some explaining to do."

Out of the corner of his eye, Iroh noticed an imperceptible twitch in his brother's jaw. Despite this, any nervousness Ozai felt wasn't betrayed within his voice as he responded clearly to their father.

"I will answer any questions you have for me, Father."

"You better," Azulon snapped. "I have no tolerance for your failure."

Ozai remained silent, not flinching as the fire wall surged upwards. There was no visible change in Ozai's expression, but the brothers stood close. Iroh could feel the frustration coming from him in indiscernible waves.

"Shall we see what pathetic excuses you can offer then?" Azulon continued. "Let's start with the rebellions. You were in charge of a key area in the Eastern block of the Earth Kingdom. A block that had increased levels of renegade actions against Fire Nation soldiers in the last six months. Did you have no control over the population at all?"

The sneering question brought a new swell of heat towards Iroh. He gritted his teeth, hoping Ozai didn't rise to the bait. When his brother responded, his tone bore a composure that Iroh knew was not indicative of the man's true thoughts on the question.

"Fire Nation intelligence did not suggest that the levels had increased to an extent that responsive action was necessary. That the conflicts were centralised around only a few locations, ones that could be contained," Ozai replied. "We had moved to contain them."

"Too late to make any difference, the wound was already festering," their father said, scorn lacing the last word. "You lost control of the situation."

"At that stage, there was no reason to think there was a situation to lose control over."

"That is a pitiful excuse."

"I am sorry, Father."

"When did you receive word regarding the rallying of troops from Taijian?"

"As I am sure you have been briefed by the Intelligence Minister, a little over a month ago," Ozai responded.

The wall of fire before them crackled as its master rage spilled forth. Ozai flinched, a tiny movement but a first reaction to his father's anger nonetheless.

"Don't get smart with me, boy," Azulon angrily barked. "How do I know that you were even listening to the information, you clearly weren't acting on it?"

"I apologise. A little over a month ago."

"And you did what?"

"I consulted with my advisors and moved to cut supplies to the village," Ozai said.

"With what intention?"

"To reaffirm who held the power in the region and show them how pitiful their rebellion was."

"It clearly didn't work."

"No, it didn't."

Azulon's eyes narrowed at his youngest son's words. Iroh held his breath, awaiting the one remaining question.

"Did you instigate the Rough Rhinos' raid on that village?"

"Yes, Father."

"Why?"

"They disrespected the Fire Nation's authority. Your authority. There is only one way to bring down a rebellion. Crush their people."

The cold simplicity of his brother's word sent a shudder down Iroh's back. He shut his eyes momentarily. As he opened them, he stole a look at Ozai's face. The slight smirk appearing there chilled Iroh to his core, not helped by the silence from his father. Iroh could sense the change in the room, the settling of the heat between father and son. There would be no real condemnation of Ozai's actions.

Azulon hummed. "So, you didn't lose control of your soldiers? They razed that village on your orders."

"Yes, Father. They needed to be reminded who held the real power."

"So, you acted out of bruised ego?"

Ozai tensed, before responding, "I do not see it that way."

"You are wrong. Your recklessness has brought embarrassment on this family," Azulon said, but his tone had lost the threat it had previously held. "You still have much to learn to even be close to your brother in the realms of leadership."

"I understand."

Azulon sat back in his throne, a wizened hand raised to stroke the long beard. "We don't know what the reaction to this will be. Further retaliation from the Earth Kingdom, escalation of attacks on our soldiers or even questioning of my ability to pass on leadership to one of my sons."

"I understand, Father. I will do whatever I can to make this up to you."

"Just know you are walking on thin ice. We are not done with this."

"Yes, sir."

The Fire Lord turned his eyes to Iroh's, eyebrow creeping upwards. "You have been very quiet, Iroh. Do you have anything to add?"

"No, sir. We have heard what Ozai has had to say and I think we simply need to let the events unfold now," Iroh replied. He was cautious with his choice of words and focussed on his father, determined to not view his brother's opinion.

Azulon pursed his lips, before nodding and dismissing them. Both brothers left the Throne Room in silence. When it was clear that they were alone in the corridor, Ozai turned to face Iroh, the smirk now apparent on his face.

"You seem disappointed by his judgment." There was no question in his words.

Iroh didn't rise to the provocation. "Not at all. He responded how I thought he would."

"Then are you angry at my actions?"

"I was surprised that you had made that call. But you were in command. It wasn't anyone else's order to make," Iroh responded simply.

"How predictably honourable of you. You can try and deny it, but I suspect you'd have given the same orders based on the available information."

"What information?"

Something passed across Ozai's face, before his grin broadened. "The same information you heard from the Minister of Intelligence, of course."

Iroh sighed. He wanted this conversation to end. His brother was trying to bait him and likely suspected his true thoughts on what he had condemned the village to suffer through. Remaining composed in the presence of Ozai was draining. He also wanted to avoid returning to the conversation alluded to before his father's arrival. He turned to leave.

As if he could read Iroh's thoughts, Ozai shattered the chance for a swift departure. "So, I hear you adopted your very own waterbender?"

Iroh's eyes closed for a second, before turning back to face his grinning brother. "She is my ward while she remains here."

"She's a prisoner. She doesn't deserve to walk through the same halls as the Royal Family."

"She's a child, and she is no longer a prisoner. She hasn't been one for half a year," Iroh responded.

Ozai scoffed. "You're soft, I shouldn't be surprised that you've chosen to try and tame her."

"She doesn't need to be tamed," Iroh said, tersely.

"Debatable." The dry response was accompanied with a raised eyebrow, before Ozai pursed his lips in an expression not unlike the one their father had fixed him with a few minutes ago. "What I don't understand is how you convinced Father to allow you to keep her."

"He had his reasons. For one, she has proven to be very useful as a healer already."

Ozai's laugh was cruel. "Of course, why not get a waterbender to heal the people of her enemy. That seems like a warped sense of heroism, saving her just to subject her to that."

"You sound concerned for her welfare, Ozai," Iroh commented, raising an eyebrow.

"This is going to backfire on you, Iroh. I wonder how Father will appreciate your judgement when it does."

"Right, we're done here."

"Of course," Ozai said. "I'll see you at lunch, Iroh. I do believe I'll get to meet your waterbender then."

As Iroh turned to finally leave, he considered returning to his wing. To speak to Katara. But he had the sense that his brother had withheld information about the nature of his attacks on Taijian. He needed to find out if there was anything that the Minister of Intelligence could enlighten him about. Sighing, as he rounded the corner, he headed towards the ministerial wings. If he hurried, maybe he would have enough time to return to his wing before lunch.

* * *

"My father is back. He returned late last night." Zuko's words broke the silence as they ate breakfast on the balcony. 

Katara looked up at the prince. He had been in a strange mood since he arrived earlier unannounced. This wasn't abnormal, he often turned up without warning when his lessons had been cancelled. "Oh, that's good. Did you speak to him?" 

Zuko shook his head. "He had left before I woke up. Mum said he had to see grandfather."

"Iroh had to leave early this morning too," Katara said. "What should we do? We could grab some new scrolls and just stay here until he gets back?"

"Mum said to maybe just stay in Uncle's wing until we are all supposed to meet for lunch."

"All of us?"

"You included. I asked, she was certain. Maybe Father wants to meet you?" Zuko looked a little tentative at his suggestion, causing a small knot to start growing in Katara's stomach.

"Maybe," she said hesitantly.

They spent the rest of the morning trawling through Iroh's study, trying to find something interesting to entertain them while waiting to head to lunch. The concept of meeting Zuko's father was making Katara increasingly anxious and Zuko wasn't helping at all. It started subtly, exasperated words interspersing tense silences as the prince realised he couldn't find something to distract him. But as an hour passed, his frustration continued to build.

Eventually, Zuko dropped a book on his foot, cursed and kicked it. Katara promptly grabbed a scroll and sat down on the other side of the room to give her friend some space. She stared at the scroll in her lap blankly, unable to concentrate. After their conversation the other week, she could understand why Zuko may be worried about not having improved in his training enough. But, the boy was clearly apprehensive over simply seeing his father again.

Her nerves only grew as her stomach starting growling, indicating that lunch was approaching. When a servant entered the study, Katara tensed, but Zuko almost jumped out of his skin. With a tentative smile, the woman let them know that Iroh had apologised for not returning and had requested their presence in the dining hall. They left Iroh's wing, Katara nudging the prince's shoulder and offering an encouraging smile. Zuko looked drained, but returned a slight quirk of his lips back. Katara sighed. That was just going to have to be good enough for now.

They walked down the hallway in silence. As they approached a junction between paths, Katara noticed a man walking from the other direction. He appeared to be lost in thought, not noticing them until they almost collided. The man was tall, dressed in a soldier's uniform with thick sideburns framing the lower half of his face.

Breaking from whatever daze he had been in, he blinked down at them. There was a moment as he looked at the children where Katara could sense an uncomfortable stillness in his demeanour. However, it soon passed. The man's teeth sparkled as his face broke out into a broad grin. The sincerity didn't reach his eyes, but he bowed in front of her friend without hesitation.

"Prince Zuko, what a pleasure to see you again."

"Captain Zhao," the prince acknowledged the man. When Zhao didn't offer any further comment, Zuko continued. "Why are you here?"

"I returned with your father last night. Have you seen him yet?"

"No," Zuko responded quietly.

Zhao's eyebrow rose. "Oh. I ran into your mother and your talented sister this morning and was surprised that you weren't with them," Zhao said, nodding at the prince before his amber eyes slowly moved to hers. "But perhaps you were otherwise occupied. Who might this be?"

The man's eyes were cold as they observed her, something that Katara was used to from interactions around the Palace. But there was an element of curiosity lurking in them that was more unsettling. Katara felt immobile, unable to answer the intimidating man.

Luckily, she didn't need to. Zuko responded for her, his tone blunt as he glared at the captain. "This is Katara."

"Interesting," Zhao replied, his gaze seeing straight through her. "I've heard about our latest addition. Those eyes are very unique. Blue is virtually unheard of in the Fire Nation."

The compliment felt wrong but as he stared at her, she felt obliged to respond. Unsure of her words, she quietly thanked him. The resulting grin added to her building nausea.

"Well, how charming."

She was saved from further interacting with him by Zuko's interruption. "We were in the process of heading to lunch," the prince said irritably.

"Of course, Prince Zuko. I wouldn't want to keep you from your family," Zhao said humbly, eyes finally removed from her as he acknowledged the prince. "I look forward to seeing you both around."

Zuko nodded before turning around, grabbing Katara's hand and dragging the girl with him. She refused to turn back around, grateful for the prince's lack of patience. Zuko looked at her in surprise as she squeezed his hand and murmured a thank you to him. The prince's returned smile was stronger than earlier, and he didn't drop her hand until they reached the dining hall.

Before entering, Katara drew in a deep breath, noticing that Zuko was mimicking her actions. He pushed the curtain aside as she followed him through and was surprised that there were only two men in the room. Iroh smiled at them as they entered but she only briefly noticed before her eyes were drawn to the man standing next to him. There was a familiarity in his face, Katara recognising those features from hours spent with the man's brother, his son and daughter. There were differences as well, the features thinner than those of his brother and more refined than that of his children.

But there was no doubt. This was Zuko's father.

* * *

Father glanced at Zuko, barely acknowledging his presence, before his eyes flickered to Katara standing at his side. Zuko felt his stomach sink. His father sneered as he glowered down at the girl. When his father spoke, Zuko had an urge to grab her hand, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

"I know who you are. From what I hear, the Commander of the Southern Raiders has you to thank for some snow-related trauma."

Who? Wait, what did Father mean by trauma? Zuko looked at his friend in confusion. He found no reassurance. Katara had tensed, eyebrows drawn and tiny fists clenching her skirt. She didn't meet Zuko's gaze, her blue eyes heatedly directed on the new arrival.

"Ozai." Uncle's tone of voice startled Zuko. There was a danger lurking in that word, a warning building in the last syllable. His uncle was angrily glaring at his father with an intensity that Zuko had never experienced.

"Oh, come on Iroh, where's the harm in expressing admiration for the girl's skill. She did it. You know she did. Why would you not want to celebrate the brutality of her actions?"

"You know why."

Father scoffed. "Pathetic. You know what she is. I don't want a savage training with my son."

"She is a child. Unless you want to take this up with the Fire Lord, you know this is out of your control."

"Control? You dare speak to me of control?" his father said, spitting each word. When he received no response, a disdainful grin broke across his face, causing Zuko to wince. "What, you think she has her powers in control?"

"I have complete faith in Katara's control over her bending."

"Obviously, you have enough to risk my son," Father responded. "So, we're all just to sit here and forget that she embodies those pitiful savages. Keep the girl coddled so she doesn't have to get too angry at the big bad Fire Nation."

"She's been here for six months without any issues. There is no need to have her relive past experiences for your own entertainment," Uncle replied.

"Past experiences? You are being ridiculous, Iroh. I highly doubt the girl is stupid enough to not have realised what happened to her."

At the taunt, the temperature escalated rapidly as Uncle stepped forward. His usual calmness had evaporated. Zuko couldn't remove his eyes from the scene. He didn't notice that Katara had moved forward as well, until her defiant voice cut through the tension.

"I know why I'm here," she said. "I will never forget that."

His father chuckled. "Oh, so she speaks? How fascinating," he said. "Well, I'm interested, why have you accepted your place here? I would have thought someone from the Southern Water Tribe would have had more pride than that." Father began to pace in front of them, waving his hand casually as he continued. "I guess you would get a better education here than back there. Or do they raise all the savages in the same way, even motherless ones?"

Motherless? Zuko's eyes widened as a strangled sob escaped Katara.

"Ozai, that's enough! Back. Off. Now."

Fire enveloped Uncle's fists. The man had stepped forward causing his father to raise his hands, before stepping back and turning to walk out of the room. A moment later, a chuckle broke the silence before Father spoke over his shoulder.

"Just remember Iroh, you dared to bring that savage around my children. I wasn't here to stop your naivety. I am now."

"You know who you have to discuss this with," Uncle said. The fire hadn't retreated, adding a light hiss to his words.

Both of the men glowered at each other, before his father spoke, his words lingering in the air even after he departed the room.

"You may have convinced Father that she isn't an unpredictable savage but you aren't going to pull the wool over my eyes. She lost control once. She will again. It's in her nature."


	16. The Delay of a Hurricane

His father was gone, but the poison he'd left remained in the room. There was a bitter taste on Zuko's tongue and a heaviness to his limbs, as if something bound him to that spot.

Zuko couldn't bring himself to look away, his eyes glued to the door his father had just exited through. His heart was still racing. The smell of the recent flames still filled his nostrils. He could hear a noise through the rushing in his ears, but he couldn't make out what it was through the repeating realisation in his thoughts.  _It was like I wasn't even there._

The moment of self-loathing that thought brought on was pushed down as he realised what the noise meant. Recognised the gasping sounds of hysterical sobs.

Katara was crying.

The prince didn't understand. Why had Father said motherless? Did Father know something he didn't? That didn't make any sense. He had known Katara for months. If he didn't know anything about Katara's mother, then why would his father know? Zuko shook his head slightly before looking over at this friend. Uncle was crouched down in front of her, rubbing her shoulders and speaking to her.

When Zuko spoke, his voice was so quiet that he wasn't sure whether either of them would hear it. "What's going on?"

Not receiving a response, he moved closer and repeated his question. This time they heard. He saw his uncle's shoulders sag for a moment, before his eyes were drawn to Katara's distraught face. A moment of reprieve from the sobs as their eyes met. Rivulets of tears flowed down from bloodshot eyes, strands of hair plastered across damp cheeks. Another shudder rippled through her body and she crumpled back into a sobbing mess.

Zuko, confused, turned his eyes to his uncle, who gave him a sad smile and surreptitiously beckoned him over. Tentatively, he placed a hand on her shaking arm. At the contact, Katara squeezed her eyes shut, tears escaping from the sides.

"Katara, please stop crying," Zuko murmured.

It hurt to watch her in so much pain. Unsure what to do, he stood there and awkwardly rubbed her arm. It took longer than he hoped, but eventually the tremors running down the girl's arm slowed. Sobs dispelled into gasps for air, then finally became quiet sniffling. Katara raised her hands to her face, dragging them across red eyes and wet cheeks before dropping them to her sides and drawing in a shuddery breath.

Zuko didn't know what to say. He wanted desperately to know what had happened, but the desire to avoid dragging Katara back into tears appeared to be stronger. So, he waited.

Eyes still downcast, Katara's voice was quiet and rasping. "I'm sorry, Zuko."

"I don't understand," he said, looking to his uncle and back to the girl. "Why are you sorry?"

"I didn't tell you." Katara was still avoiding his eyes.

"What didn't you tell me?"

"Zuko, I don't think–" Iroh started gently.

"That my mother was killed."

 _Oh._  Zuko peered at the girl, waiting for her to continue.

"I didn't, I couldn't tell you," Katara said, her voice louder but still dredged with sadness. She looked up at him. "Telling you-," her voice wavered, "seeing you look at me like you are now, it-it makes it more real."

"Why?"

"Zuko, you can't help but show your emotions on your face," she said.

"I do not!"

She started giggling, a tired, breathless noise. "Of course you don't, Zuko."

He took a deep breath, forcing his face to relax. "So, Father knows?" When Katara didn't respond, Zuko turned to his uncle. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Zuko, I'm sorry. Maybe I should have," his uncle replied, "but this wasn't my story to tell." He reached over, squeezing Zuko's shoulder. "I knew Katara would tell you in her own time."

Zuko looked at his feet. He felt guilty at how frustrated he was. He shouldn't feel like this. Katara had lost her mother. A pain he couldn't imagine. If she hadn't been ready to tell him, he needed to accept it. She would have, he was certain of this. He pushed down the feeling of inadequacy, of once again being the only one who didn't know what was going on. This was not about him.

He heard Uncle sigh, felt the hand rescind, before the man pushed himself back onto his feet and moving towards the door. "I think I'll inform the Fire Lord that lunch is cancelled."

After they were left alone, Katara quietly apologised again. "I should have just told you."

"Father shouldn't have said those things to you. Why-why does he know?"

Katara looked at him with a peculiar expression, before answering. "Because it was a Fire Nation commander who killed her."

It felt like the ground had disappeared from under him. " _What?_ " he gasped. "Why?"

"Because he thought she was the remaining waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe."

"She was a waterbender as well?"

Katara gulped, tears threatening again. "No."

"Oh," Zuko said, feeling empty as he realised her meaning. "So, he-they were looking for you?" She nodded. "They would have killed you?"

Katara shook her head, staring at her feet. "I don't know. They didn't in the end."

Zuko could barely hear Katara's shaky breathing. This didn't make any sense; the Fire Nation didn't just go around killing children. As he tried to remember what his father had said, something stood out in his mind.

"What did Father mean by snow-related trauma?" Zuko asked suddenly.

Katara peered back at him. "I collapsed the roof of our home," she said cautiously.

"On the commander?" he probed, receiving the hint of a nod in response. "That is impressive," he breathed.

She scoffed. "It's not like I could do it again."

He felt a small smile emerge, but something was still bothering him. "Why were they even there?"

That weird expression returned to Katara's face. She appeared to look sorry for him, an insight that made Zuko feel uncomfortable. "The Fire Nation has been raiding the Southern Water Tribe since long before I was born. That's why I was the last waterbender left; they have taken all of the rest of them."

"That can't be right."

"It is."

"Wha- No one tells me anything," Zuko exclaimed, his face scrunching up in frustration. Realising what he had said, the prince gulped and apologised. "I'm sorry, Katara, I- that is not what I meant."

"I get it. I'm sorry too, I know how much you hate being kept in the dark," she said, quietly, before reaching out and grabbing his hand. "I won't keep any more secrets from you."

He felt the stubborn grip on his hand, stopping the threat of exasperated tears. "Promise?"

Katara nodded, and smiled. "I promise, Zuko. Never again."

"I promise too. No more secrets."

* * *

"You will be fine. You're really good, Zuko." Katara's reassuring smile did little to dissuade the nerves bundling themselves into a convoluted mess in his stomach.

The prince grumbled. "Not compared to Azula."

"Forget about her," Uncle interrupted. "You're making yourself more worried. You ran through it five times earlier this week without one mistake. I know you can do that again."

The boy sighed. "Yes, Uncle," he said, before looking at Katara. "It's probably a good thing you can't come along."

"I could sneak along and hide in-" Katara started, before a glare from Iroh cut her off. "Actually, you don't need me there. It's not like I'll put your Father in a better mood," she said, drolly.

Her comment elicited a tired smile from Zuko, before he sighed. There was no getting out of this demonstration today. His father spoke to him briefly during dinner the night before, the topics of Katara and his uncle apparently off the table. But, Father had expressed interest in Zuko's lessons from the last six months, and the boy had been unable to miss the mocking smirk of his sister from her perch next to their mother.

A night of tossing and angry assertions spoken to the darkness had passed, and Zuko had snuck out early to receive some advice from his uncle and Katara. Witnessing a sulky, sleepy Katara had brightened his mood a little before the reason for his visit had been questioned. He didn't need to respond. At the look on his face, Katara had shut one eye and peeked at him through the other blearily, before collecting herself and telling him she would get up and meet him in Uncle's room.

The morning had flown past. Encouragement had helped temporarily. However, breakfast had arrived, and been ignored by the prince. His mood had slowly descended back into the previously anxious state. Uncle was now indicating that it was time to head down to the training rooms to warm up, and Zuko was grateful for the lack of food in his stomach.

A quick hug and an "I'll be here to tell you that I was right" from Katara, and the prince found himself standing outside the training rooms. His uncle had walked him there, but was not requested to attend this session. A few words of comfort, accompanied by a squeeze on his shoulder and Zuko was alone.

His sister was already there. He watched from the door as she moved through the end sequence of her warm-up, her movements precise and graceful. Zuko felt ill.  _No._  Don't focus on her. He moved to the other side of the room, stretching out his arms. Taking a deep breath, he began his own warm-up, feeling himself calming as his limbs listened to his fatigued brain.

"I'm surprised, Zuzu."

Azula's teasing voice drawled off after the bastardisation of his name. He ignored her. Focussing on the movements of his arms, he tried to ignore the smug presence that had planted herself within his vision. Breathe. Through some warped luck, his sister didn't say anything else as he finished the sequence. However, that unexpected goodwill ended as soon as he did.

Azula continued as if he hadn't ignored her first comment. "I would've thought the waterbender would be here to support you," she said, before wincing sympathetically. "Or does she know how painful this is going to be to watch."

"Stop it, Azula," Zuko snapped.

His sister rolled her eyes at him, before leaving to return to her own warm-up. The vast hall was filled with the hiss of flames and orchestrated movement of feet. Ignoring each other, the royal siblings continued until the sound of the door ended their warm-up abruptly.

Their father had arrived. He moved through past them, towards the end of the hall and the platform emerging from the wall. Both Zuko and Azula dashed over. By the time Father had spun around to face them, they were standing in front of him. Zuko willed his hands to stop shaking. This was not the moment for weakness. He could stay focused. He refused to let his sister's comment upset his resolve.

"Zuko, you will go first. Let's see what you have learnt."

His stomach dropped. A moment of nerves, before he looked up at his father and nodded.

"Yes, Father," Zuko said, relieved that his voice held steady. Moving into the middle of the room, Zuko set himself up and drew in a deep breath. He could do this. Glancing at Father brought a returned permission to begin.

So, he began. Sinking into the first movement, Zuko flowed through the motions he had practised earlier in the week with Uncle. The flames that emerged from his fists initially sputtered, before holding steady. He ignored the initial hiccup, and continued to sink into the subsequent lunge and arc of his arms. The first kick felt strong, coming from a low position and circling around in a crescent. The burst of confidence that followed the successful movement carried through the next few strung together.

It was through the second jump that the first hitch in form emerged. A kick that curved outwards, flame rescinding as he extended. Zuko tried to regain some control and paused before moving into the next part of the sequence. This time the flames appearing from his foot did not form the uniform flow that was expected. Orange spurts sizzled and crackled from his heel before dissipating.

Gulping, he stepped back before trying the jump again. This time, he focused on the flame. Succeeding in the consistent stream of fire from his foot, Zuko misjudged the end of the jump, landing awkwardly. He stumbled before finding his feet again. Holding back frustrated tears, he moved into the last part of the sequence, finishing without any further issues. It wasn't enough. He knew he had failed. He walked back to his father, a frown now crossing the man's face. Holding his breath, Zuko patiently waited for him to speak.

"I was under the impression that we had tutors for you."

Blinking, Zuko was caught off-guard. "I do have tutors, Father."

"Have you been listening to them?" The tone of voice was stern, frown still etched into the man's face.

"Yes, Father," Zuko said, trying to hold back the threatening waver in his voice.

His father started pacing in front of him. Zuko wanted desperately to look away, to stop having to look at the obvious disapproval. "Shall I replace your tutors then? They clearly aren't training you well enough."

"N-no, Father."

"So, you have been ignoring them?"

It took everything that Zuko possessed to not gasp his confusion. Instead, he stayed silent while he summoned the courage to respond.

"Answer me, Prince Zuko," his father ordered. "Do we need to remove your tutors or have you not been training as hard as you could have been?"

A small gulp before Zuko answered. For some reason, the spirits had decided to side with him in that moment as his voice was calm and he did not cry. "I need to train harder, Father. I can do better."

"You will. No child of mine will embarrass me like this." Father was no longer pacing, dark eyes glaring through his. Zuko nodded, afraid of his ability to continue to speak. "Move over. It's Azula's turn. Maybe one of my children will have learnt something in my absence."

The rest of the demonstration passed as Zuko had expected. Azula was as frustratingly perfect as she always was. Spinning, gliding, lightly landing on her feet before moving into another arcing kick. Light as a feather in the air, but already demonstrating a power beyond her years. Zuko felt sick watching her, but the praise levelled on her after her finale was worse. His heart was pounding. Frustration was building behind a dam within him, one that desperately wanted to break free. He needed to get out of here.

Zuko couldn't even bring himself to be upset at the cold dismissal directed at both of them. Relief washed through him as he made to leave, following his sister out of the training hall. But as he reached the threshold, that same cold voice pulled him back, asking him to wait behind.

Zuko closed his eyes, before turning back only to be mystified by the amused expression on his father's face. He returned to his place in front of his father. He tried not to play with the seam of his pants nervously, instead clenching his hands lightly into fists.

"I heard you burnt the waterbender. Is that true?" his father asked.

"It was an accident, Father."

"Curious. I heard that her injuries were substantial. You would have needed to display a powerful fire to have caused burns such as those described to me."

Zuko blinked at his father. Was he supposed to answer?

"Maybe there is some hope for you after all, Zuko. You are dismissed."

Zuko nodded, turned and walked as quickly as he could without causing any suspicion. He kept his head down, even as he passed his uncle in the hallway. It wasn't until he reached his room, barricaded the door with some chairs and sunk onto the bed that he began to cry.

* * *

Zuko had tried to hide it, but he had seen his nephew's face. Iroh quietly groaned. It hadn't gone well then. He briefly debated not entering the training room. He wasn't in the mood to talk to his brother.

However, after his peculiar conversation with the Minister of Intelligence, Iroh needed to try. He needed more information about Taijian. Minister Ren had reiterated the initial report, but had looked increasingly uncomfortable when Iroh began to question where the sources for the recruitment had come from. There was no indication that the minister had falsified any of the advice he had received, but even Ren seemed wary about the verification of that information.

By the end of the meeting, Iroh had concluded that any decision regarding the village had been localised and based on a number of sources that could not be confirmed. The urgency of those reports and the swiftness of that decision had justified the lack of Palace input. He felt compelled to talk to Ozai.

His younger brother was training when Iroh entered, abruptly halting mid-flow as he heard the door. As Iroh approached, he saw Ozai's shoulders visibly tense, before releasing. Good. An unnerved Ozai was more likely to let something slip.

"What do I owe this honour?" Ozai asked, a sly grin spreading across his face as he regained his composure. "I'm sure you haven't arrived to spar with me."

"No," Iroh replied. His brother's eyes widened slightly at his tone of voice. "Ozai, I know there is something you aren't revealing about Taijian."

A small chuckle broke through the air. "That's an interesting theory, Iroh. What on earth would make you accuse me of withholding information?"

"Did you talk to the sources about recruitment to the rebellion directly?"

It was brief, but he saw it. A flicker of recognition passed across Ozai's face before the grin widened. "Of course not. You know that wouldn't be standard practice, unless they specifically approached me," he said, dismissively waving his hand. "Most of the information came through the usual intelligence channels, no reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary."

"So, if I talk to your intelligence advisors, I would have no reason to be surprised?"

"Of course," Ozai answered. "I don't know what you think you've found, Iroh. But you're a smart man. I'm sure you will figure it out."

Frowning, Iroh circled around to exit the room. That had not been as fruitful as he had hoped. But he felt drained, and the continued presence of Ozai wasn't helping.

"I spoke to Father."

At his brother's words, Iroh turned back, raising an eyebrow in lieu of a question.

"You've really done a number on convincing the old man that your little waterbender should stay here," Ozai said, amused. He approached Iroh, hands openly splayed out. "I have to say, I am impressed with how much sway you seem to have."

"She is a child. Father can be reasonable," Iroh said, bluntly. "Not to mention that she has become an excellent healer, a skill even our Father agreed was of use."

"Seems an interesting change in tact from him. It's not like he had cared about the waterbenders, even the small ones, before this."

"As I said, he agreed with my reasoning."

Ozai scoffed. "He agreed with  _you_. He doesn't care about the girl, he just wants to give his favourite son a plaything while Lu Ten is out fighting."

"You forget your place," Iroh growled.

"You forget your  _loyalty_. You are the heir to the Fire Nation throne, act like it," his brother barked in response. "She is an enemy. We have been fighting to wipe them out."

"I'm aware of who we are fighting, brother." The last word was spat as Iroh felt his chi start to boil within his gut.

Ozai grinned in response. "Do you? Father instigated the raids on the waterbenders in the first place. What do you think they've been doing?  _Rehoming_  them?" he said, a dark chuckle bursting out at the thought. "Letting them live in a Fire Nation village with a little flock of koala sheep?"

"You've brought this up with him and he has disagreed with you. Drop it, Ozai."

"If you say so," the younger brother responded, in a sing-song voice reminiscent of their days as children. It was a tone of voice Iroh had heard from his niece in recent times. Stretching his fingers, Ozai stared at him. "I just need to wait. It's only a matter of time before she does something that brings her continued existence into question."

Iroh wasn't sure whether it was Ozai's cruel words the day before to Katara, the suspicion that he had falsified intelligence to justify an attack on a village or the blatant insinuation that Iroh was using Katara to replace Lu Ten in his son's absence. But the Crown Prince's composure ended. Two steps forward and Iroh stood directly in front of his brother, flames coursing their way from his fists and up his arms.

"Back off her, Ozai. I am warning you."

"Are you?" his brother replied, the amusement in his voice now spiked with uneasiness.

"You do not just get to torture her for your amusement."

The façade evaporated. Hatred blazed in Ozai's eyes, and when he spoke, there were no notes of entertainment, only dark sarcasm. "As the Crown Prince commands."

Both brothers stood a step apart, matching amber eyes glaringly fixed on each other. Ozai broke first, glancing to the side and Iroh stepped back before spinning on his heel to leave.

Ozai had always been light on his feet and a brief hiss was the only warning Iroh received. Ducking to the left, he felt the burning heat of the arm that shot past him, scalding his shoulder. Ozai readjusted quickly, balancing on his right foot as he twisted to thrust his other fist at Iroh. Iroh caught it in front of his body within both hands, stepping forward as he used his momentum to twist his brother's hand, simultaneously extinguishing the flame and forcing Ozai to his knees. Ozai swung with his other arm, letting out a cry as Iroh drove him backwards. He landed on his back, losing control as his neck whipped backwards. His head hit the floor with a sickening crack.

Iroh stepped over him, flames now surging around his body. His younger brother eyed him nervously from his place on the ground, wincing at the pain from the impact.

After a few moments Iroh spoke, allowing the fury to hang in each word, loud enough to rise above the crackling of the fire. "You've been away for a long time. It's weakened your memory of who holds the power here. But I've run out of patience. Stay away from her. I won't ask you again."

* * *

A week had passed since Ozai had returned. Katara hadn't run into the man since their first meeting, but tension had clung to both Iroh and Zuko in the following days. When questioned, Zuko had revealed the disappointment of his demonstration, Iroh a rueful comment about family catch-ups. All three had improved over the week, although each remained on edge. Grateful for moments of distraction, like the one they were enjoying that afternoon. Katara and Zuko were leaning back on one of the couches, trying to catch thrown grapes in their mouths. Iroh was reading, along with a cup of tea, intermittently frowning at the number of missed projectiles ending up under the couch. The children weren't exactly accurate.

"Did you want to do something for your birthday?" Zuko asked suddenly.

Katara almost choked on a successfully caught grape. "My-my birthday?"

"Isn't your birthday coming up soon, I thought you said it was just after the winter solstice?"

Katara gave him a weird look. "Why would you remember that?"

The prince's face coloured as he muttered an excuse. Katara giggled, before scrunching her face as she answered. "I just want to ignore it to be honest."

Zuko looked confused. "Why? Birthdays are fun."

"It's my first birthday in the Fire Nation. I don't want to think about it," she said quietly.

"I understand what you mean, Katara," Iroh said, placing his book down. "The first of any anniversary after a death often hits us the hardest. The loss of that person is more noticeable on those days," he added, smiling at her sadly. "But it will slowly get easier."

"I know, I don't know if I want it to though. After this one, I won't be the age I was when she was alive."

As Iroh responded with an acknowledgement, Zuko spoke at the same time. "But you will be my age," he said.

Katara looked up at his earnest face. "That's true," she said, with a small smile.

"Maybe you'll get better jokes?"

She rolled her eyes at the taunt. "Maybe I'll get taller?"

The prince scoffed. "Unlikely, you're always going to be ti-hey!" Zuko cried out as a handful of grapes were thrown at him. Katara giggled at the look of outrage on his face.

The moment of normality made her feel better. Time spent with Zuko, and with Iroh, had a tendency to do that. To make her forget for a moment all she had lost, and how precarious her position continued to be. But it was enough to keep going, to find moments of pure joy and to remain being Katara.

* * *

There's a room deep within the Palace that light doesn't reach. Stone walls encompass the dark interior, their rough, ancient surfaces providing an unyielding canvas. Walls that have always watched those who enter its enfolding grasp.

Not many knew of this place. It had been secretly built and integrated behind the walls of the Palace, here since the beginning. Visited throughout the years only by those few who knew of its existence, the knowledge passed down through members of the family anointed by Agni.

The room had been there when as a child, Crown Prince Sozin had discovered it, along with his friend Roku. The two boys would meet in secret, filling the room with their imagination, with illustrious battles and quests. They giggled about finding their very own Throne Room, one where Sozin could pretend to be the Fire Lord, a role he would one day fulfil. As they got older, they would spar in the close quarters. One day, the two boys had left a distinctive mark, visible only to those with the time and boredom to search the surfaces. Hidden characters within a criss-crossed frame in a bottom corner of the room. A symbol of their promise to remain friends for all eternity.

But all children grow up, and the youthful joy of the two boys soon departed, leaving the room alone again. Years passed, and the now-Fire Lord Sozin returned. Sometimes, the man would lean against the wall that held that symbol or stare at it, lost in thoughts. Sometimes he would yell into the dark abyss. Deliriously screaming about an Avatar. Sometimes he would write feverishly, alone in the room, descending into madness. The room was indifferent to this transformation.

Then one day, the cheerful boy, vengeful ruler and raving senior was gone.

The room had been abandoned in recent times. Waiting for visitors that never came. Maybe no one knew of its existence. Maybe the room was doomed to remain alone.

Finally, one day, another boy arrived. Alone. Dark hair, thin face, suspicious eyes that broke into elation as the boy realised what he had found. His joy brought back memories for the walls. The boy kept returning, always alone, but appearing to revel in his solitude. He grew taller, a stylised beard emerging on a face more strained as years of stress took its toll. Nevertheless, he continued to return and spend time within these walls, scribbling plans on parchment and practising his bending.

Finally, after many years, the boy - now a man - returned with another man. The thick sideburns covering the sides of the new man's wider face was in direct contrast to the polished look of the more frequent visitor to the room. But the room savoured the new arrival; more feet stirred its dust and more voices echoed off of its walls.

These two men eventually brought others. Even though the room couldn't differentiate between the new presences, their faces concealed, it was content to remain an observer of history. A time had passed since the last visit, but the room stood firm, always waiting.

No visitor had ever left anything within these walls, removing anything that had been brought down with them. Even tonight, it was laid bare. The people brought their own torches with them as they entered, hoisting them up and placing them around the room. Their heads were downcast as they shuffled into the room. The posture was strange considering their attire. Each arrival was hooded, their faces masked. To prying eyes, they would appear to be indistinguishable.

However, there were members that conveyed a quality that made them stand out. There was something in the way they carried themselves, the lack of nervous ticks that afflicted the other hooded figures. These members avoided the others, choosing to stand alone. One in particular remained close to the door, his masked face turned towards the entrance, choosing to ignore the other occupants of the room.

Shuffling feet and rustling robes betrayed a collective apprehension that their masks kept in secret. The only sounds were intermittent coughing arising from the inhalation of dust.

They were waiting. A member was yet to arrive.

A slight noise was heard from behind the door and the inhabitants of the room descended into absolute silence. Each mask was turned attentively towards the threshold as a final cloaked figure entered the room.

The figure took their place before the others.

The leader stood there for a few moments, observing the room, as the other hooded forms waited for them to speak. When they did, it was in a clear, magnetic voice, a voice the room had heard before. The mask was identical to the others, but the authority that the now-grown boy commanded could not be diminished by his camouflaged identity. "Circumstances have changed. We cannot move yet."

A member from the back of the room piped up, brashly asking a question that others did not dare to. "But your return has been orchestrated without fault. Why would we not move now?"

The statuesque individual who had waited next to the entrance moved to stand at the leader's side. The man spoke in another voice familiar to the room, that of the side-burned companion. His response was curt. "It isn't the right time."

The leader continued. "They would suspect the reason for the resurgence in activity if we moved now. The Crown Prince will be remaining in the Fire Nation for the time being. He  _complicates_  things."

Another member spoke calmly, words carefully chosen. "But has there has been a shift in the plans for the Earth Kingdom? Against Ba Sing Se?"

"Yes, it's inevitable. The Fire Lord aims to move against Ba Sing Se," the leader responded, nodding. As he brought his head back up, there was a small movement, a wince as he kinked his neck. "Iroh won't be able to remain in the Fire Nation forever," he continued, a wry note entering his voice. "Despite his current attempts to delay the path he is on."

"What if he chooses not to lead the siege?" Masked faces turned back to peer at the bold voice.

A chuckle responded the question, the leader being joined in the mirthless sound by the man at his side. "He won't have a choice. It shouldn't be too hard. We just need to convince either the Fire Lord or the Crown Prince himself that his presence at Ba Sing Se is essential."

"What about the girl? Doesn't she tie him to the Palace?"

The leader pondered the question for a moment, before answering, the humour dissipated from his voice. "You are correct, the presence of the waterbender ties Iroh to the Fire Nation at the moment," he said. "However, she could prove useful to us."

"How?"

"She is a wildcard. It's possible she could simply slip up. Her actions could change the Fire Lord's view of Iroh and his judgment of character," the leader responded. He shrugged, before spreading his arms wide and continuing to speak wryly. "If not, the bond between them could still prove beneficial to our cause. We don't have to know what her use is yet."

"So what do you propose?"

"We wait. We have time on our side," the leader stated. "The slow inescapable march to Ba Sing Se will be upon us. The opportunity we are waiting for will come."

The man to the right of the leader nodded in agreement. "We have time. We can wait."


	17. Pranks and Portraits

**Two Years Later**

"Shhhh! Katara, you're being too loud," Zuko whispered.

"I'm not," Katara hissed back, returning his glare. "He's not even here yet."

" _So?_  Do you want him to know as soon as he walks into the room?"

She grumbled in agreement, before quietly adding, "I'm not being that loud."

"Katara, if you giggle in the middle of it, you're going to get us caught."

She rolled her eyes at the prince. "It's  _Iroh_. The worst we will get is a stern lecture about interrupting his tea-infused contemplation."

Zuko frowned, and made to say something else when a sound from the other side of the room interrupted him. Eyes widening as they stared at each other, the two children hunched further behind the couch. They listened as Iroh asked a servant to make him some tea before making his way across the room. The couch settled as he sat down. Katara squeezed her eyes shut to focus on not making a sound, feeling the amusement building again. She peeked at Zuko to find him still glaring at her. It almost broke her. Before she could make a sound, a small hand shot out, covering her mouth. The prince's eyebrows furrowed as he signalled her to be quiet. Katara shut her eyes again, Zuko's grumpy face providing a new source of entertainment.

They heard the servant re-enter and the unmistakable sound of the tray being placed, and a teapot being lifted and poured. A few words, before serenity descended. The children waited for a few minutes until they could hear Iroh relax into reading. Then the sound they were waiting for. The teacup being placed back down on the table. Zuko peered around Katara, before nodding at her and removing his hand. Soundlessly, she leaned back and lifted her palm. As she had practised all week, a thin stream of liquid raised from the cup and passed behind the couch to in front of her. The satisfaction from her improved control of the water gave her a little burst of pride, but she had to focus. She peeked at the small bowl Zuko had sneaked from breakfast that morning, and took in a deep breath. This was the trickiest part of their plan. Even while practising, she had struggled to soften the first splash of water into the bowl.

Letting out the air slowly, Katara sent the stream towards the vessel. It wasn't perfect. She tensed, sucking in a panicky breath as she heard the tiny, but unmistakable, clink of the water hitting the sides. Fortunately, the small sound of the tea hitting the porcelain was masked by a shuffling of the papers Iroh was reading. It had worked. Katara grinned victoriously at the prince. Zuko looked like he was struggling to hold it together, but managed to return the grin without making a sound. They returned to waiting, Katara biting her lip and Zuko covering his face with his hands as they waited for the reaction.

"Huh. I could have sw-" The confused sound of Iroh's voice made Katara start shaking as she controlled silent giggles that threatened to reveal their position. The two children avoided each other's gaze as they listened to Iroh lean over and pour himself another cup of tea.

Twice more, they waited till Iroh placed the half-filled teacup down before swooping. Katara coursed the liquid from the cup and to their bowl and waited for a reaction. Zuko maintained his role as the only thing stopping her from cracking and exposing their prank. Inaudibly, they were trying to signal whether to cut their losses and be able to leave without discovery when they heard the door open and Iroh's cheerful greeting.

"Minister Ren, what brings you here? Would you like some tea?"

"No, thank you General. I received some news I thought you would be interested in hearing."

"Good news I hope?"

"Yes, sir. We have had confirmation of the next rotation in the Earth Kingdom. Your son's division is returning to the Palace."

* * *

The news that Prince Lu Ten was returning to the Palace spread fast. For the last two hours, Katara had been in etiquette classes with Azula, Ty Lee and Mai. Every time the sternly faced tutor ducked out of the room, the conversation would instantly turn back to the ensuing gossip.

Ty Lee had taken the lead this time. "My sister is  _so_  excited; she's had a crush on him for as long as I can remember!"

"Ty Lin has a crush on everyone though," Mai said dryly. She had slumped back in her chair as soon as the tutor had left.

"True." Ty Lee looked puzzled for a moment, before her face broke back into a smile. "But he's definitely the main one. She has a mini portrait of him in her room," she continued, her voice fading into a conspiratorial whisper. "I've caught her kissing it before."

"Well, that is just gross," Azula replied.

Despite her friend's ridicule, Ty Lee persisted, looking at Katara for approval. "Everyone is talking about his return; he's been away for  _years_."

"I know," Katara said, giving her an enthusiastic smile. Ty Lee had always been friendly. She had been excited to teach the waterbender cartwheeling – a skill that Katara had yet to master - and to have found someone willing to having their hair braided. "Hey, maybe you could show him what you've learnt with your chi masters?"

Ty Lee blushed. "Oh, I don't think-"

"Don't be silly," Azula cut in, "I highly doubt he's going to recognise Ty Lee."

Katara watched Ty Lee's face fall momentarily, before the girl recovered and smiled at the princess. "You're right, Azula. He hasn't seen me in more than three years," Ty Lee said, her cheerful voice returning. "I'm sure I'm taller now."

"How are the chi lessons going?" Katara asked, changing the subject away from the discussion about Iroh's son. She was increasingly nervous to meet him, and the more the girls talked about him, the less she could ignore the worry that she wasn't going to get along with him.

Ty Lee blinked at her at the question, before scrunching her face. "Well, I know it's a huge honour and very few people get chosen to study it," she said, before throwing her hands up in the air dramatically, "but it's  _so_  boring! All we do is study where the chi lines pass through the body. Everyone said that the masters can do all these cool things with manipulating people's chi, but it all just feels like extra classes at the moment."

Mai sighed at her friend's theatrical tirade. "Didn't they let you in because you could tumble better than the rest of us?"

"Yes. But we don't even get to do anything physical. The masters said we need to understand the inner workings," Ty Lee stood in front of them, motioning her hands towards her body as she parroted their teachings, "before we can learn outer manipulation. But they never tell us  _when_  that will be and," she sighed, "it's so dull."

"I'm sure it will get better," Katara said. "Just you wait, maybe one day you'll be able to take down any bender out there."

* * *

Zuko considered himself lucky that he didn't have to go to the same etiquette classes as the girls. However, he had been placed in another room to complete some history homework; far from the gossip, but alone.

Being alone. It was a strange feeling. One Zuko was once accustomed to. Where his sister had flourished in schooling, acquiring her very own minions within the first month, Zuko had found it harder to relate to the other boys in his classes. Many avoided him, wary of his family or threatened by his position in the succession line. Luckily, classes had been a temporary addition to the royal siblings' schedule – merely a way to be exposed to the children of ministers and the Fire Nation elite at an early age – and he was able to return to the expected tailored lessons held within the walls of the Palace. This isolation lead to an ingrained acceptance of his loneliness, particularly after his cousin and uncle had left for the frontline of the war.

That acceptance was hard to imagine now. The concept of loneliness had been thrown away two years ago. Now, solitude was unexpected, a foreign sensation that was equally relaxing and unsettling. He didn't miss it.

Despite the circumstances that had brought Katara to the Fire Nation, Zuko couldn't help but see their friendship as a silver lining. He couldn't know if she felt the same and it would be wrong to ask. Surely, Katara would have preferred to have been home with her tribe, surrounded by her family. Never having had met him. He tried to not dwell on those festering thoughts, and the resulting waves of guilt and uncertainty that accompanied them.

Katara's enthusiasm could be exhausting. Her plans often got them both into trouble, and she still found the strangest things funny. But one thing was certain. He knew he never wanted to go back to a world where she wasn't around. Where he would truly be alone again.

* * *

Since the news of his son's return, Katara had only seen Iroh in the evenings. The Crown Prince had been rushing around, attempting to prepare things for Lu Ten's return in between the escalation of strategic meetings. He had explained to Katara that the return of Lu Ten's division was partially due to the length of time they had been in the field, but also because of the need to rally them together and prepare for the next planned attack. Iroh hadn't explained what he meant when questioned, just saying that it wasn't set in stone. It appeared that this uncertainty was the cause for his attention being currently pulled in various directions.

Tonight though, he had joined her on the balcony, both sitting in the crisp air. The winter solstice had passed a week ago and despite the sun still holding onto its warmth during the day, the sunsets were often chilly. Just the way Katara liked it.

"I've been informed that a number of the soldiers returning are injured," Iroh said. "It looks like you may be a busy girl in the next few weeks."

"I heard," Katara replied. "Pang said they are trying to clear the wards by the end of the week. Did they say how many?"

Iroh shook his head. "Unfortunately, there appears to have been an accident on the Fire Nation side. Quite a few burns."

"Oh." She had definitely improved, but Katara still found burns made her squeamish.

In Iroh's continued silence, she found herself losing herself in thoughts, pulled back to the memory of her first one. It had been after her eighth birthday, when she had been healing for around six months. But despite her skills as a healer advancing, she had never been asked to treat a burn victim. She had been grateful that Doctor Pang had held them back, but she suspected it was actually Iroh who had influenced the delay. It didn't matter. There was no length in time that would have been long enough. She shuddered, both at the breeze that passed across the balcony, chilling her skin, and the memory of that horrible smell.

_The acrid smell of burnt hair and sickly scent of cooked flesh struck her as soon as she entered the room. Gulping, Katara had stepped forward, forcing a wave of nausea down at the gnarly sight. Angry, blistered skin spanned across the man's forearm, puckering skin in sections with others smoothed and raw. The potency of the stench wafting from the soldier laid out on the bed was suffocating, hanging thickly in the air. Katara had turned away before she reached him, squeezing her eyes shut and holding a trembling hand over her mouth._

_Disordered, her thoughts split between the revulsion at the immediate assault on her senses and the horror from the memories they evoked. Trauma locked deep down, sealed behind fortifications built of sheer will, emancipated by a sense that she couldn't control. Memories of cold eyes, charred flesh and confused screams. An indescribable body that couldn't possibly be the remnants of the life she had seen moments before._

"Katara? Katara?" Iroh's voice cut through the memory, and she realised a few tears had slipped from her eyes. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Wh-what?" Katara shook her head to clear it, wiping her damp cheeks. "Oh, just remembering something. I'm actually fine."

He looked at her in concern. "I hope you aren't nervous about meeting Lu Ten?"

"No. No, I'm not. Well, maybe a little."

"I wish I could convince you, but I just know that you will both get along brilliantly," Iroh said. "He should be here in time for your birthday too. Turning 10 is a milestone worth celebration, and he has always loved birthdays."

Katara smiled at him. "If he is anything like you, I think we have a chance."

* * *

The sun was beating down on the city, the Caldera alive with raucous cheering and waving citizens. A procession involving the entire Royal Family was a rare sight, and the sides of their path were lined with everyone who could make it to the Caldera in time. From her perch in the palanquin, Katara could peer out at the beaming faces. It was in stark contrast to the judging eyes who witnessed her arrival through these same streets. That march felt so long ago, a world away from the life she had now. But she suspected that if the curtains were drawn, and those faces knew who was watching them, some of the animosity would return.

"You didn't answer earlier, Katara." Azula's voice interrupted her observation of the crowds. "Did you agree with Ty Lee?"

"Agree with what?" Zuko asked.

Azula raised an eyebrow, grinning at her brother. "Oh, Ty Lee's sister has this big crush on Lu Ten. She was fawning over how handsome he was, and asking the girls what they thought."

"Yuck! He's our cousin."

"I know that, Zuzu. Obviously, I didn't answer," Azula responded curtly, rolling her eyes at her brother before facing Katara. "But Katara had no excuse for withholding her answer.  _She_ isn't related to him. I thought she may want a chance to answer now, away from those gossips."

"But I've never met him."

"That doesn't matter," Azula responded. "The girls showed you his portrait, didn't they? You know what he looks like."

"I guess," Katara said, her voice trailing off. "But I didn't really have an opinion."

"How boring." The princess shrugged and leaned her head back against the wall of the palanquin. "When we first met, I thought you would be more fun than this," she added, before shutting her eyes in a blatant end to the game.

Katara pulled a face at her, before returning to the view. The procession was nearing the port, and she could see hints of the ocean past the waving people and the carved ridges of the buildings set out behind them. It called to her, calming her. She missed this feeling. Growing up so close to the ocean had always given her a sense of freedom. There was no way to look out across the vast tracks of water and feel anything but uninhibited. Free. Living within the Palace had taken that from her, limited the sensation of freedom she had once experienced. She longed for the ability to just explore her surroundings at will, with the only restrictions being the threat of a snowstorm or when a pack of wild snow leopard caribou were passing too close to her village.

Iroh had once been confident that Katara could explore the city, visit Liao and integrate into the Nation. Those hopes had slowly been whittled away, the Crown Prince wary of antagonising citizens that didn't understand why the waterbender's presence continued in their city. No citizen would complain, or even question, their Fire Lord's decision. But after she had raised the request a third time, Iroh had gently explained to her that their silence was not conducive to their acceptance. He thought it was unwise to press the issue.

She had once thought of Zuko as being trapped. It hadn't been easy to accept that she was now as trapped as he was. It had been harder for Katara though. She remembered what it was like to have been free.

Iroh had worked hard to connect Katara to the outside world. Liao was permitted to come to the Palace every few months, and despite their differences, the two girls had become good friends. Liao didn't come from a noble bloodline, and didn't have the same education or standing as Azula and her minions. It had been easier for Katara and her to find common ground. They had bonded over the hopelessness felt in the continued absence of Liao's father and the vast distance between Katara and her family. But, behind that, there was a bond formed over the previous lack of a sister figure. Liao was an only child, and there were few girls left in the Southern Water Tribe and none close to Katara's age. It was an easy friendship in contrast to the cloak of caution that Katara wore around Azula, Mai and Ty Lee.

Zuko often avoided them when Liao would come to the Palace. When probed about it, he offered an excuse about Katara being weird when she was around Liao and he really didn't need to figure out why another group of girls were laughing around him. Sometimes, he would be a reluctant participant in a game when Iroh was also present. For the first year, Liao was always reserved around the prince and often squeaked if he spoke to her. But, they had settled into a polite but friendly existence with each other, albeit one with few words.

Lost in thoughts, it took Katara a few moments to notice the palanquin had stopped moving. Along with the royal siblings, she was soon ushered out into the blinding light. The temperature was not as pervasive as in the summer, but the sun felt particularly harsh for a wintry day. She blinked, adjusting to the light, as she watched swarms of people being held back by a line of guards. Their ogling was not as cruel as what had followed her procession through the city, but their evident curiosity was still unsettling. It was a relief when she heard Zuko huff behind her about staring, and pull her back towards their group.

It was then that she saw the docked ship. Gobsmacked at the sight, Zuko's incessant tugging on her arm was the only thing that kept her walking towards it. She had seen Fire Nation navy ships before, each one an unfortunate reminder of her voyage here, but none of them compared to the size and extravagance of this. It was huge. She could only guess at the number of soldiers that habited this vessel on their journey home.

Each of the members of the Royal Family and Katara were guided to their places, lined up ready to welcome the Fire Lord's grandson home. The Fire Lord himself had a version of his throne set up for him, with the others standing attentively next to him. Iroh was at his father's side, followed by Ozai, Ursa, Zuko, Azula and finally Katara. Katara peeked down the line at them, before being elbowed by the princess. She tried her best to mimic their postures, back straight, chin up, eyes focused ahead on the gangplank. She could feel sweat droplets form under her collar and slowly slip down her back, tickling her skin. The feeling was getting unbearable when she was distracted by the shift in the crowd's mood.

The first figures appeared at the top of the ramp, the Fire Nation flag stretched between them. They stood there for a few minutes, before making a slow and methodical descent down the gangplank. Soon, a procession of soldiers emerged and followed them down.

The marching soldiers set themselves in formal rows, each facing their Fire Lord. A single man stepped forward, making his way towards the throne.

He was tall, with arched eyebrows and sideburns that framed a strong jaw. His dark hair was fastened above his head, his top knot set with a gold band, with an intricate Fire Nation symbol cast in front of it. Head held high, he was the picture of a regal prince. But there was a resemblance, a twinkle in his eye that instantly calmed Katara. She didn't need to look towards Iroh to confirm that this was his son.

Lu Ten stopped in front of his grandfather and bowed deeply, before greeting him formally. The voice that carried down the line towards Katara was clear and authoritative, as the prince politely spoke to the Fire Lord. The next few exchanges were quieter and she strained to hear what was being said. Realising that Azula was glaring at her, Katara found she was leaning towards the sound. She awkwardly returned to her position, just in time to hear a deep, yet raspy laugh burst from the Fire Lord, a sound that indicated the response was often unused.

She stole another look down the line and saw that Iroh was also beaming. Unable to tear her eyes away, she watched as Lu Ten turned to him. The younger prince stepped forward and bowed before his father, before being pulled into an encompassing hug. The crowd behind her murmured, this was obviously not something commonly seen. But the Fire Lord simply chuckled, and Katara couldn't help her mouth twitching into a smile at the sight of the reunited family. As they pulled away, she saw Iroh surreptitiously wipe his eyes before she noticed Zuko trying to signal to her to look ahead.

Grimacing, she returned to her previous position and waited. She could only hear pieces of the conversations as Lu Ten greeted and spoke to his uncle, aunt and then each of his cousins. Katara overheard a comment about Zuko's height and a teasing comment about whether Azula had attempted lightning yet. Even Azula seemed to have grudging respect for her cousin, but Katara felt the air heat up as her hair was ruffled by him. Lu Ten must have felt the change in temperature as well, because he laughed quietly in response before focusing his gaze on Katara. She quickly looked ahead, but it was obvious that he had noticed her peeking at him.

"And, you must be Katara?"

She mutely nodded. He was suddenly standing in front of her, and he was taller than she thought. She craned her neck to look up at him, the sun behind him giving him an ethereal halo.

"I've heard a lot about you from my father. You've definitely been a common presence in his letters," Lu Ten said. "I have to say I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Oh." His face broke into a smile at her response, and she cringed. Surely, she could think of something better to say. "Uh- I've been looking forward to meeting you too."

"Well, I've heard you've become quite the Pai Sho player. My father has been bragging at his teaching prowess. We'll have to have a match."

"Ok. I think he has overstated my ability," she said, feeling her cheeks warm up. "I never beat him."

He chuckled. "Neither do I."

Lu Ten stepped back, making his way back to his troops. The formalities continued, Katara struggling not to fidget. The dampness of her collar was increasingly hard to ignore, and she was relieved when it was over and she was able to subtly shift her clothing to stop it rubbing.

"What did he say to you?" Zuko whispered, nudging her as they walked back towards the shade of the palanquin.

"Huh?" Katara answered. "Nothing much, he just said Iroh had written to him about me."

"You were blushing."

"No, I  _wasn't_ ," she hissed back. Zuko frowned at her response, and she could feel her cheeks reddening again. "You sound like Azula, why do you even care?"

"I don't care," he said, scowling and quickening his steps towards the palanquin.

Katara watched as the curtain closed behind the prince's retreating back. That was odd. What had gotten him so upset?


	18. The Village

Over the two and a half years that Katara had been at the Palace, Iroh had learnt to expect any number of peculiar scenes as he entered the training rooms. As a result, he was amused, rather than shocked by his view from the doorway. He heard an exclamation of surprise escape Ursa as she followed him through the door, one that was quickly masked with a delicate cough. Neither child registered their presence, so both adults stood in silence, witnessing the spectacle playing out in front of them.

A red-faced Zuko stood in front of them, feet encased in ice. The ground within two meters of the prince was frozen solid. Ice crystals were slowly making its way up his ankles. He was sending fiery projectiles at the skipping waterbender's feet, Katara jumping from one foot to the other while trying to concentrate on moving the ice. As the adults watched, Zuko let out a frustrated growl before redirecting his efforts at melting the ice surrounding his feet.

A few moments passed before he loosened one of his feet, kicking it up towards her. She squeaked as she ducked out of the way of the flame, pulling some water from the training jug and dumping it on Zuko's head. Ursa chuckled, and both children jumped in surprise. Due to having one foot still trapped in the ice, Zuko tripped momentarily before regaining his balance. The fight was over.

"Good work, Prince Zuko," Iroh said, applauding as he approached them. "And Katara, your ice creation is improving quickly."

The girl frowned at him. "Sometimes. It doesn't really listen to me though."

"It seemed to be working well there," Iroh chuckled at Zuko's scowl as the boy continued to melt the ice surrounding his other foot. "Don't be like that, nephew; you demonstrated some impressive thinking on your feet." He winked at him.

Zuko groaned at the joke, shaking his foot, before turning to his mother. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

"I was talking to your uncle and he mentioned that he was coming here to tell Katara something, so I thought I would see how your training was going," Ursa said, smiling brightly at her son. "I was impressed. You both have come so far." Her son reddened at the praise.

"What were you going to tell me?" Katara asked.

"Ah, yes. Well, I was coming to tell you that we are heading on a short trip," Iroh said, smiling as the girl's eyes widened. "My son's return has brought a renewed enthusiasm about the war efforts, one that has outshone the Court's expectation. There have been reports over the last year of a growing disillusionment towards the war, and it has been suggested that a brief tour of the villages may be a little less intensive than other proposed  _measures_  to address it."

Katara narrowed her eyes at the use of measures, but Iroh did not elaborate. "So, you're saying that we get to go and visit some of the Fire Nation?"

"Both of us will join Lu Ten, and a number of his division, of course."

"Do we get to travel there on a ship?" she asked, unable to hold back her excitement. "When are we leaving? Will I be there for my birthday?"

Iroh beamed at her, and nodded. "Yes, in a few days, and yes."

The girl squealed in response. She turned to Zuko, smile sliding from her face as she saw his reaction. "But wait, what about Zuko?"

Zuko looked up at his mother. "Can I go with them, Mom?"

Ursa sighed, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. "I- I'm not sure if you will be able to go this time. I can ask your father. But Zuko, even if he says yes, your grandfather might not be happy with you going as well."

"But I never get to visit the Fire Nation," the prince grumbled. Small red splotches bloomed on his cheeks as he stared as his feet. "Surely I need to see more than just the Palace."

"Well, there's no harm in asking," Iroh said cheerily. "Your mother can discuss this with your father today," he met Ursa's eyes over the heads of the children, "and if Ozai is fine with it then I can talk to your grandfather."

* * *

Ursa had always admired her husband's office. It was a portrait of Ozai's refined tastes, displaying the organised elegance that made up a fraction of the man's personality. Dark shades spanned the room, backlit by the sun as it radiated through ornate windows tall enough to almost touch the ceiling. Ozai sat behind the centrepiece of the office, a solid elm desk that both dwarfed him and magnified his prestige. Brows furrowed, absorbed in the scroll he was reading, he unrolled it a little further. Smiling, she watched him quietly, waiting for him to finish as she lost herself in the moment and the fondness that view brought her.

A few minutes passed like that, before Ozai tensed and looked up at her frowning. Golden eyes flashed as he recognised her, his face breaking into a large grin.

"Ursa."

"Ozai, may I have a word?"

"Naturally. Please sit down," he said, gesturing towards the seat placed in front of his desk. She felt his eyes follow her path from the door, smoothed her skirt and settled into the chair. His scrutiny was expected. This wasn't a common occurrence, and Ozai had a habit of predicting the reason for her visits over the years. Looking up, she met a cheerful grin. He was in a good mood. "To what do I owe this honour?"

"I imagine you have heard that Iroh and Lu Ten are heading a trip around the villages."

Ozai's eyebrows knitted together briefly, before he leant back in his chair. "I heard this morning of Father's plan to send Lu Ten. However, I was unaware Iroh was accompanying him. How fascinating." He leant his face into his right hand, examining at her. Ursa remained silent, not wanting to interrupt to raise her request. Eventually he spoke, amusement threading through his words. "Well, this is all very interesting, but I'm a little bemused as to why you've brought this to my attention. I'm sure I would have heard this later today." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Why are you really here, Ursa?"

She didn't hesitate. "I would like Zuko to have a chance to go with them." Ozai quirked an eyebrow at her words, but Ursa persevered when he didn't immediately respond. "It would do him a lot of good to see more of the Fire Nation, and this seems like a good opportunity when there will be plenty of security as well as his uncle and cousin."

"And the waterbender," Ozai added, his tone mocking.

Ursa controlled her expression. "Yes, she will be there as well."

He sighed, before speaking with a voice filled with pity. "I hoped you wouldn't be as naïve as the rest of them, Ursa." She dug her fingers into the side of her leg, willing herself to remain calm. Ozai rose from his chair and paced towards his window. He continued to speak, gazing out across the courtyard as if he was no longer addressing her. "That waterbender will bring more trouble into our lives that she is worth, and I will never understand how Iroh convinced Father to refrain from burning her to a crisp."

There was no possible response to his words, so Ursa remained still. Moments of uncomfortable silence passed. Ozai stood motionlessly, staring out the window. Gripping the edge of the chair to ground herself, Ursa tried to ignore how the minutes dragged on, and thought about how she was going to break the news to her son. The strumming of fingers against the window sill brought her out from her planning and she couldn't hold back from jumping in her chair.

"Alright."

Distracted, she didn't register if she spoke. She must have made a sound though, because Ozai turned towards her, clearly amused. He waved his hand dismissively. "Let the boy go with them."

She found her voice. "Thank you."

Grinning at her reaction, he walked over to her, extending his hand and helping her up. The gleam in his eyes unnerved her. He seemed more pleased with his decision that she was expecting. Ozai brushed a few strands of hair from her face, before pressing his lips to hers. Strong arms wrapped tightly around her back.

Pulling away, he examined her. "You never know, maybe the experience will be good for our son," he said. She agreed and he smiled, letting her go and returning behind the desk. "Seems like an opportunity to try something different," he continued, grin widening as he spoke.

Ursa nodded in response, before turning and leaving the room. She had the odd sensation that they both weren't having the same conversation.

* * *

The feeling of being on the ocean again was indescribable. Katara hadn't been able to control her excitement since the ship launched from the docks at the edge of the Capital. Salty breezes brushed the hair from her face, sending it spiralling around her shoulders. The surface of the water was glistening in the sunshine; cresting swells crashed against the hull of the ship. The ocean was calling to her, welcoming her back into its embrace. Reminding her how it felt to experience her element surrounding her, seeping into her veins.

The picturesque view of the distant horizon put Katara at peace. The moment was heavenly, almost perfect. But there was one thing that was off, continuing to break through the tranquillity with every wretched sound.

Zuko was seasick.

The prince had been leaning over the edge of the ship for more than an hour, becoming increasingly exasperated when it didn't stop. Katara had been confused by his reaction; Zuko had once told her that his family had travelled to Ember Island. Iroh had gently pointed out that this was a much larger ship and that they were travelling farther than Zuko had previously, the oceans more open and turbulent. She had frowned, that wasn't correct. The imploring look from Iroh eventually registered: the explanation helped Zuko feel less self-conscious. Sighing, Katara had nodded in understanding and had done what she could to help alleviate her friend's suffering.

Nevertheless, her sympathy was not warmly received and Zuko had weakly banished her. The prince was unimpressed with her enjoyment of the same ocean that was causing him untold misery. Though she tried not to flaunt her delight in front of his misery, Katara had been unable to keep the smile from her face from the moment she had jumped from her bed. She had startled a servant in the process, unaccustomed to seeing the waterbender skipping through the halls before the sun had finished rising.

So here she was, surrounded by the same waters that could take her home, if the Fire Nation changed their mind about her position. They were expected to be gone for almost three weeks, visiting four separate villages on the islands scattered across the Fire Nation. It had taken two weeks to plan the trip, and the wait had been unbearable. Despite his current predicament, Zuko had been just as excited as her to escape the confines of the Palace and explore some of the islands.

Katara had counted down the days, sharing with Iroh all her plans for the trip and things she wanted to experience. During one of these conversations, Iroh had reminded her that the delay meant that she would spend her birthday away from the Palace, potentially on the ship on the way back to the Capital. With a cheeky grin, he mentioned he had a plan to sneak some musical instruments on board, quietly adding that this information was best kept between the two of them, and certainly not to be mentioned to any accompanying princes. Iroh informed her that even though Lu Ten was an avid musician, he was hopeless at hiding secrets from his cousin. If they wanted to orchestrate an impromptu concert, the utmost discretion was required. Katara had nodded in agreement and stuck out a hand. She knew what was at stake. She would not risk the chance to witness Zuko playing the tsungi horn. Iroh shook her hand, both of them enjoying the resultant suspicion from both Lu Ten and Zuko when they shared knowing glances with each other.

Unable to stop the grin spreading back across her face, Katara leaned against the handrail. This was going to be a good month.

* * *

Zuko scowled as he leaned back, a reprieve from emptying his stomach contents over the handrail into the swirling waters below. The same resounding waves that were responsible for his suffering. "Uncle, how long do we have to be on this spirit's damned ship?"

His uncle grimaced, before patting him on the shoulder. "It's going to be a few days till our first destination. This will pass though."

"How long?"

"A day, maybe two. It's different for everyone. You might still get a little after that, but the initial sensation will pass."

"This is so unfair." Zuko covered his face with his hands. "This was meant to be a fun trip. No one else is throwing up."

"It still will be, nephew. I promise you," Uncle said, ignoring the apprehensive expression on the prince's face. "And no one else is throwing up because they are used to this. As you will be one day."

"I guess."

"I know what will cheer you up." His uncle gestured to someone, and Zuko turned to see Lu Ten approach them cautiously.

"How are you feeling?" his cousin asked, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Miserable."

"I was just about to tell Zuko about your first experience on a ship," Uncle said, grinning at his son. "But I thought he may prefer hearing it directly from you."

Lu Ten frowned. "Oh, I don't think-"

"I'm sure you wouldn't deprive your aggrieved cousin from bonding over your shared experience," Uncle said. Ignoring his son's glare, he continued, "come on, you can only make the boy feel better."

"Fine," Lu Ten groaned. He turned to Zuko, sinking down onto his haunches in front of him. "My first experience on a ship in open waters was when I was 18. I didn't… _cope_  very well with it at the beginning. You won't believe me, but I was worse than you are now. It didn't help that the soldiers inducted the new recruits through some  _irresponsible_ methods on the night before we shipped out." Lu Ten hesitated, glowering at his father, who chuckled in response. "I wasn't the only one, but I was definitely the worst. And I was the one that remained there later in the day, when everyone else had retreated back into their beds." He pushed himself back up to standing. "Turns out that fish are attracted to vomit. And my daylong efforts had brought half a school of them," he grimaced, and Zuko felt himself smiling for the first time since they had launched from the docks. "The other soldiers quickly noticed and…started fishing. They dubbed me the Fish Whisperer. Had a ceremony for me and everything. Needless to say, I stuck to rice that night and did not eat fish for the first month we were at sea."

Uncle leaned back his head, laughing heartily, and Zuko soon joined him. For the moment, the nausea had retreated, replaced by an inexpressible warmth and happiness.

"I love that story," his uncle gasped, wiping tears away.

"Always happy to help," Lu Ten said wryly.

* * *

Iroh was relieved. By the end of the first day, Zuko's stomach had settled enough to crawl into the bed on the other side of the cabin to Katara's. Despite his first day away from the Palace in years, Zuko appeared to have remained in good spirits. It was hard not to. Katara's enthusiasm was infectious, and once the boy's nausea had receded, even he wasn't impervious to it. As Iroh left their room for the night, he could hear the smile behind the boy's grumbling in response to her chatter.

His nephew gradually improved over the next day. By late afternoon, Zuko joined them in exploring the ship and by their arrival at the first village, he appeared to have adjusted to their temporary home.

Their first welcome was at a large village on one of the more prominent islands in the Fire Nation. The entirety of the village's population were in attendance, their faces alight as they witnessed the arrival of the group and the speeches of both Iroh and the head of the village. Their group remained for three days, days spent talking to the village elders and aiding with abandoned projects and repairs. Despite their cheerful reception, it was increasingly apparent that this bustling village was slowly falling into disrepair. The men and women that remained were either too young or too old. Those that had seen the horrors of war and returned, their minds and bodies not as whole as when they had left, and those that had yet to leave.

Iroh spent one afternoon sharing tea with a soldier named Hotaka, a man he had once fought alongside many years past. The morning had been spent digging a new well within the borders of the village, and both men now relaxed as they watched children playing in the mud surrounding the area. The two soldiers spoke of their time together, swapped memories of battles fought and friends lost, along with stories of the families they had raised in the aftermath of their time together. Hotaka's two sons were both stationed in the navy, one returning recently to marry a girl in the village during a break in his deployment.

As the sun descended from the sky, and the cups of tea turned into flasks of wine, their conversation turned to the omnipresent conflict and with some convincing, the reminisced camaraderie between them drew out Hotaka's opinion on the war effort. But, as always, his words were tainted by the discrepancy in their respective ranks. A soldier could only be so frank to the heir to the Throne, the son of the man who maintained the war. Iroh could sense the underlying bitterness behind Hotaka's words, and both men inevitably allowed the discussion to trail off.

Fires were lit and the village gathered to eat, Iroh and Hotaka sitting further back from the merriment. The atmosphere was relaxed; the hard work of the day completed and the people happy to enjoy the evening. From their vantage point, Iroh could see Katara and Zuko paired together in a game set up on the outskirts of the group by the children. Eventually Hotaka returned to his family, and the vacated seat was filled by one of Iroh's own.

"You seem to be pondering something," Lu Ten asked, taking a sip from his glass of wine. "Care to share something with your most trusted advisor?"

Iroh scoffed. "You're my most trusted advisor? I sense we're all doomed if that's the case," he said wryly, prompting a barking laugh from his son. "But I do want to know your opinion on this."

"Hmmm?"

Iroh pursed his lips as he leant towards Lu Ten. "You've been back for a month, and have sat in on a number of meetings now. What is your opinion on the siege?" He waved his hand. "I know the tactical advantages of winning against the Earth Kingdom's capital, and the spiel that has invaded the war council's discourse. But that wall has never been breached. Seems to me that we also have a lot to lose from this plan. Is this even the right moment to act?"

Lu Ten had raised an eyebrow at the topic's introduction, but by the time Iroh had finished his face had lost the expression. "This isn't like you. I've never seen you this uncertain about this sort of decision."

"Maybe I've never allowed you to see that hesitancy."

"That's possible. But I suspect that isn't the circumstance here."

Iroh smiled. "Did I ask you to study me?"

His son returned the smile, and took another drink. "No, and I am honoured you're asking my opinion."

"You will be Fire Lord one day. This may still be a question you have to face, even though I hope it is one you won't."

Lu Ten watched him for a few moments, before speaking. "The walls of Ba Sing Se have never been breached. But why would that mean they couldn't be? There's a chance to strike a decisive blow, one that would put an end to the suffering that ongoing conflict is causing. The war is draining the villages. You can see it even today." He paused, looking over the gathered group conversing with each other away from them. "Whole generations have been caught up in this. Legacies are now tied to the fate of what we decide. Don't we owe it to them to end it if we can?"

"And if we fail to breach the wall?"

The corner of Lu Ten's lip quirked upwards. "Who says we will?"

"Maybe we won't fail. But that is a consequence that we need to consider."

"If we lose, then we would regroup and decide on a new strategy. We have the soldiers and the artillery to lay Ba Sing Se to siege now. If this actually has a chance – a real chance - of ending the war, shouldn't we take it?"

Iroh leaned back, drank from his glass and smiled. "I'm impressed. You've clearly thought this through."

"I've had a good teacher," Lu Ten replied. "But I suspect you didn't need me to tell you any of this." He frowned at the resulting grimace. "Father, may I ask a question?"

"Please do."

Lu Ten watched the game being played. Zuko was trying to direct a blindfolded Katara through a series of obstacles faster than two other children. It didn't appear to be going so well, if Zuko's red face and Katara's shaking shoulders were any indication. "I'm sure you are aware how Katara is viewed by the Court. I've only been back a month and I've already recognised this hasn't been a popular decision." Lu Ten sighed, turning to his father and smiling. "I like her, I really like her, and Zuko seems like a completely different person compared to when I left. Which I can only assume has been due to her presence, and yours as well-"

Iroh nodded. "I think she has brought him out of his shell far more than I predicted."

"I can see that," his son added. His tone turned serious. "But have you considered that your aversion to Ba Sing Se has been seen as solely due to her presence? That the court thinks you would be an advocate to this siege if she wasn't here, and probably leading the charge."

"Perhaps," Iroh responded. "I can't deny that she hasn't been a factor. However, there are other issues that are disturbing me, affecting my judgement. A series of inexplainable decisions, troop movements that haven't been vetted, and a rise in accidents. Is this the right time to strike at the biggest stronghold of the largest enemy nation?"

Lu Ten faced the rest of the gathering. "I don't think you alone can delay this for much longer."

"No, I think you're right," Iroh said. "There are other advocates for delay, but they are outnumbered. It is likely that we will move within the next six months, a year at the outset."

"With you?" His son glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

Iroh smiled. "I imagine that will be the question keeping me awake tonight."

* * *

After two weeks spent in close proximity with Katara and Zuko, Lu Ten was sure of three things. Zuko prized Katara's friendship to a level that Lu Ten had never seen from his cousin; those feelings had developed into a small crush; and both of them were completely oblivious. Lu Ten suspected one more thing – his father knew.

The second village had come with a similar routine. This group started warier than the previous village, but the edge had been taken off by the end of the first day. It was hard, even for the most distrustful citizens, to reject the offered workforce provided by the soldiers.

The children of the village had been tasked with helping carry debris from a broken down hall in the morning, Katara and Zuko joining them. The afternoon had been filled with games, but it was hard to ignore how distanced the two of them were from the rest of the group initially. Zuko appeared to be more accepted than Katara, likely due the presence of his family, not that it made the boy any less awkward around the group. Katara, on the other hand, appeared unconscious of any avoidance of the other children. She seemed to simply enjoy being outside and amongst other people her own age, and by the end of the day, it was clear that she had won over some of them.

However, this isn't what struck Lu Ten. The early reluctance from the others just didn't seem to bother either of them, lost in their own world of being able to finally see outside the Palace walls. He had seen Katara taking charge, leading Zuko through villages and pulling him into games, but also Zuko bossing Katara into playing a game properly, and failing to hide a smile when she dramatically bowed before him. Lu Ten wasn't sure if the two of them were unaware of the people around them, or they simply didn't care.

As the light faded, the villagers left for their own homes. Unwilling to head in for the night, Lu Ten, his father, cousin and Katara set up for a campfire on the outskirts, collecting cast away wood, including broken boards, from their earlier construction efforts. The other members of their party were sitting further away, sharing drinks and stories, raucous laughter reaching Lu Ten's ears. A chill entered the air and Lu Ten leant forward to light the fire.

"That's cheating," Katara's voice stopped his movement.

He looked up at her. "Cheating?"

"Yes, we're in the middle of the woods," she said, nodding. "It's cheating to light a fire with firebending."

Lu Ten frowned. "How is that cheating, it's something I can do?"

"Well, what if you weren't a firebender? Would you be able to light a fire then?"

"But I am a firebender?"

"What if you suddenly weren't? Like you lost the ability to?"

"Why would-" Lu Ten groaned, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure if I lost the ability to firebend, I'd still know how to create fire."

Katara smiled slyly. "How would you do it?"

Lu Ten glared at her. When she seemed unfazed by the reaction, he sighed. "Fine, I don't. I never needed to learn."

"But why would he need to know?" Zuko interrupted. "Wait- why would you even know?"

"Have you ever been to the South Pole?" Katara replied. "There's a lot of snow." At that, his father started chuckling.

Lu Ten looked at the girl curiously. "Are you telling me you know how to create fire?"

"Yes," she said, eyes gleaming in pride. "My dad taught me."

"Oh, well mine apparently left that lesson out." Lu Ten glared at the man in question. His father held up his hands innocently. "I take it you can teach me."

"Of course, my dad said it was an important life lesson. I will be happy to educate you," she said, then stood up, and headed towards the forest.

Lu Ten glanced at his father who mouthed " _Humour her"._ He sighed, and pulled himself up to follow her.

They wandered through the woods, collecting dried leaves and bark from the forest floor. Lu Ten staying silent, listening to Katara chatting away. It was easy to see why his father was so fond of her; the girl had this innate ability to find things to talk about. But this time, she seemed lost in memories, reminiscing about the first time her own father had taught her how to gather and store the dried plants and kindling necessary to start fires. It seemed inappropriate to interrupt, even when listening to her sparked some guilt within Lu Ten. He was aware of Katara's history. It gave him moral pause to see the human result of the Southern Raider's mission – a girl, split from her family, speaking about memories with someone she hadn't seen for over two years, solely due to his Nation's actions. Ever since his father had mentioned that he had brought her in as a ward, Lu Ten had wondered how much resentment a child could wield. After meeting Katara, that notion appeared to be unfounded. Outwardly, she always appeared so cheerful, and eventually he had stopped questioning what might be lying behind that friendliness.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Katara held up a large handful, announcing they had enough. They headed back to the others, placing their findings down in a small mound next to the firewood pile.

Katara grabbed a flat board from the pile. "Do you have a knife?"

Lu Ten hesitated, before pulling out his most prized possession. His father had given him this knife for his sixteenth birthday, hilt made from a carved horn of a komodo rhino, blade effortlessly light.

Katara held the board in front of her, indicating a point in the middle. "You need to create a small notch here,"

He did as she asked, receiving a nod from the girl in response. Katara handed him the board, before placing some of the dried leaves under the notch. She grabbed another thin stick from their collection, and handed it to him.

"You need to place the end of the stick in the notch, push down and roll the stick between your hands, moving them up and down the length of it," she instructed. "When you see an ember forming, hit the board so it drops onto the leaves."

He looked at her sceptically, but she smiled at him. "I've done this before, it does work."

Lu Ten rolled his eyes, but started mimicking the movement. He could see his father lean over and whisper something to Zuko, who grinned. This was embarrassing. Fierce glaring didn't help, sending his relatives into sniggers. Hearing them, Katara spun around and scolded them, before telling him to ignore them. The noise stopped, but Lu Ten could see the truth in their eyes – he was not going to live this down.

Minutes passed, and Lu Ten got increasingly frustrated. The desire to just firebend and end this charade was overwhelming. But Katara looked happy and wistful, and he didn't want to disappoint her, so he kept up the motions hoping this torture would be over soon.

He was starting to wonder how long she would let this continue, when the first spark of an ember surprised him. The second followed a moment later, making him grin proudly. Lu Ten looked up at Katara. Eyes alight, she reminded him to tap the board, which dropped the ember into the waiting dried leaves. The leaves ignited, and he moved them into the pile of tinder. Katara leaned over, and they both blew on the flame. Eventually, the fire started.

"You did it," she said.

"I did. That was strangely satisfying," he responded, before winking at her. "I still prefer our way."

She glowered back at him. "I'd like to see you create water."

Lu Ten snorted, as his father burst into laughter. Katara looked baffled, staring between both of them. He could see the question forming on her lips as Zuko joined in, before the girl reddened in realisation. She mumbled something about boys being rude and made to stomp off.

"Wai-wait, Katara come back here," Lu Ten called after her. She turned back, hands clenched in small fists at her side. A stance reminiscent of one Zuko would commonly take when frustrated or embarrassed. He stood up and walked over; hands up in front of him and apologising. Looking down at the girl, he smiled warmly, heartened when she tentatively returned it. "Thank you Katara, your Dad taught you well."

There was a moment of sadness that flashed across the girl's face, even though she hid it well. But it passed and Katara beamed up at him. "I know."

* * *

The last village came with some confusing emotions for Katara. On one hand, she was exhausted. The days had been longer than she had become accustomed to, filled with physical work, games and late nights chatting around fires and whispering with Zuko after the adults had taken themselves to bed. But on the other hand, she felt lighter than she had been in years and she didn't want their journey to ever end.

The political minefield of the Palace felt so far away. In spite of the stares from the villagers, she felt less animosity towards her, largely helped by the presence of three members of the Royal Family. Iroh, Lu Ten and Zuko appeared to be treated reverently by everyone they met. She expected that. What surprised Katara was how natural it seemed to them. Even Zuko was unaffected by actions that bordered on worship. It was a strange feeling, watching her friend turn into this royal persona, one that felt distant from her. The Zuko she knew always returned though. At the end of each day, when they sunk into their own beds in their little cabin on the ship, the façade would drop. Zuko would groan, sharing all of undiplomatic thoughts of the day's proceedings, and they would fall back into their usual selves.

The pretences were a reminder that there were differences between them, ones that would momentarily raise their ugly heads, before blissfully sinking back into the oblivion so she could ignore them. She refused to dwell on it though. The distance from the palace, along with prolonged exposure to Iroh and Lu Ten, had brought more mischief and happiness out in Zuko than she thought possible. She wasn't going to ruin the month by overthinking the significance of their roles.

As usual, they had spent the first morning in the village being shown around and listening as the elders spoke to Iroh and Lu Ten. The discussion took place in front of the collective group, covering the news around the Fire Nation, the village, and the specific things the soldiers could help with while they were there. As luck would have it, their party had arrived early in the morning, the heat not reaching the relentless limits Katara knew it was capable of.

This was always the dullest part of their time in a village. Zuko was standing near his uncle and cousin, while Katara was situated near the soldiers. Standing quietly was definitely not her favourite thing, and she struggled to not fidget. Something else - beyond the growing need to stretch her back - was bothering her though. She had the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. In itself, this wasn't unusual. By appearance alone, she stood out amongst the Fire Nation party. But the longer the talks went on, the more she felt the unsettling sensation of eyes boring into the back of her head.

One benefit of being so far back from the objects of everyone's attention was the ability to sneak some glances around. Slowly, she turned her head, peeking over her shoulder to look at the crowd behind her, hair shielding part of her face. Most of the villagers behind her were focussed on the talks occurring in front of them all. But there was someone, hiding back within the crowd who wasn't. They were just staring at Katara, staring as if no one else existed.

It was an old woman. Long, grey hair fell in front of shoulders covered by drably coloured robes. Piercing grey eyes met Katara's, startling her with the realisation that the woman felt familiar. That made no sense. Katara had never met her, she was certain of it. As she stared, the woman's face broke into a kind smile, lighting her eyes and breaking the tension of the moment. Some of the uneasiness lessened and Katara hesitantly returned the smile. The woman nodded at her, before fading back into the crowd. Katara returned her eyes to the front, trying to focus on what Iroh was saying, but the conviction she knew the woman remained.

They remained in the village for another day. Katara had searched for the woman but unsure whether to ask anyone who she was, had remained quiet. On their last afternoon, Zuko and her wandered off together. They came upon an old man hammering boards against his window, and overcome with curiosity, Katara dragged Zuko over.

"Excuse me sir?" Katara asked.

"Huh?" The man accidentally caught his thumb mid-swing. "Ow, dang blame it!" He shook his hand, turning to glare at them. "What? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just wondering if you know of an old woman that lives in this village. I'm trying to find her."

The man looked at her peculiarly, before pointing behind them. "You mean like that there woman?"

Katara felt a familiar sensation prickling her spine, spinning around. The woman from earlier was standing behind them, next to a food cart. This time, there was no subtlety. No one else was around. Katara took a deep breath and headed over to her.

"Wait- Katara, where are you going?"

"I just need to talk to her."

Katara walked over to the woman, ignoring the confused sounds from Zuko. The woman watched her approach, giving her the same smile as that morning. Katara tried to restrain her nerves, and returned the smile. "Hi, my name is Katara."

"It is lovely to meet you, Katara," the woman said. "But I know who you are."

The girl took a step back. "You do? Because I feel like I know you."

The woman tilted her head, examining her. "You don't. I can assure you of that. But I've heard about the waterbender living in the Fire Nation."

"Oh." Katara's face fell. This woman wasn't someone that knew her, just a citizen that wanted to judge the Crown Prince's ward.

"Katara, what are you doing?" Zuko came up behind her, putting a hand on her arm. Katara saw the woman tense at the action. She was surprised but the reaction made sense; it likely wasn't standard behaviour to have a prince touch a commoner.

"I saw this woman during the introductions this morning and wanted to meet her," Katara told him.

The prince looked confused. She tried to hold back a smile, watching the question of  _why_  overturning in his head, knowing he was struggling not to voice it. Eventually, Zuko settled with a quiet "Oh."

"Do you mind if I speak with her for a few moments?" Katara asked. She squeezed his hand in reassurance. It was obvious that the prince was uncomfortable about leaving her there.

The woman frowned. "Young man, I won't bite. You are welcome to stand over there by the next food stall so you can keep an eye on her if you wish."

Zuko's mouth dropped open. He stared at the woman before looking at Katara. She grimaced, squeezed his hand again, and apologised before saying she'd only be a few moments. He scowled at her, before turning and moping off to the food stall.

"Stubborn firebender." There was a harshness in the woman's voice that hadn't been there earlier. At the look on Katara's face, the woman smiled and when she spoke again, the harshness was gone. "When you've lived around firebenders as long as I have, you'll understand."

Katara bit her lip. Something was off here. No villager that she had met so far would have even considered speaking to a member of the Royal Family like that, let alone speaking about firebenders in this way.

The woman continued. "You're from the Southern Water Tribe, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Were you being taught waterbending before they stole you?"

Katara winced at that word. "No, I was the only one left. There was no one to teach me," she said, watching the woman's smile fade. "I have been receiving lessons at the Palace though."

"What?" the woman gasped. "From who?"

"From a member of the Fire Nation Royal Family," she replied.

There was no hiding the scowl now. A few awkward moments of silence passed, before the smile returned and the woman reached out and touched Katara's shoulder, speaking calmly. "There are some things that you won't be able to learn from firebenders. I have studied waterbending - the spirituality behind it of course - a rare opportunity in the Fire Nation."

"Really?" Katara couldn't keep the excitement from her voice.

The woman inclined her head. "I can pass on some knowledge if you would like, but you will have to promise me something, Katara," she said. The girl nodded vigorously, prompting another smile. "This has to be between us. You can't tell any of them what I tell you, not even your glaring friend over there."

Katara peeked at Zuko, who was indeed glowering at the two of them. She gulped, before looking at the woman. "Why?"

"You're a waterbender in a strange land, you should learn whatever you can to survive."

"Survive? Wha- what can you teach me?"

"Growing up in the South Pole, waterbenders are totally at home surrounded by snow and ice and seas. But as you probably noticed, that isn't the case wherever you go."

"I do feel stranded from water within the Palace," Katara said. "But I've created ice before, which reminded me of home."

"That is very impressive, Katara. But I imagine you had water in front of you when you did?" the woman said, continuing when Katara nodded. "Did you know waterbending masters can even pull water out of thin air?"

"Really?" Katara brightened. "That is amazing!"

"It really is, I've seen it in action. It is terrifying and remarkable all at once."

"I would love to be able to do that."

"You will one day, you just have to learn to control water wherever it exists," the woman explained. "Remember to keep an open mind. There's water in places you'd never think of."

"Thank you. I don't understand though, why would you want to help me?"

The woman's expression turned hard. "You're a child caught up in a spiderweb of lies and manipulation, and probably naïve enough to believe that you can place your hope in these people."

Katara took a step back, grasping her hands together. "That's not true, that aren't all like that?"

"You can't trust them, Katara. Even your  _friend_  over there," the woman said, spitting out the last part. "They won't hesitate to use you as a pawn in their schemes."

The girl couldn't move, nodding silently as she tried to process what the woman was saying.

"Just remember Katara, you have water within you. Don't let any of them take that away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ooof, this one definitely took longer than I expected. Thank you all for bearing with me - work and uni conspired against me in the last few weeks.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and reviewing - I've been thoroughly enjoying everyone's theories on how this arc is going to end! Some of you have gotten close on parts of it, and we are almost ready for it all to play out. There's one chapter of indulgent fluffiness after this one - involving a scene I wrote back in May that I am very much looking forward to – and after that, we will be very quickly descending into the political chaos that triggers the events to end this arc with Katara out of the Fire Nation.
> 
> I was asked about this at the end of the last chapter and thought it may be useful to mention here - I couldn't find any information on Lu Ten's age so I have put him in his mid-20s here, say 24-25. Iroh was meant to be in his late 50s/early 60s in canon, so Lu Ten is possibly older. But I came the the conclusion that someone that high in the Fire Nation's succession line would be unlikely to not have a wife or child by the age of 30 (and there was no mention of one) so I've gone for a middle ground.


	19. A Birthday to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… turns out I wildly overestimated my ability to write during the last few months of my degree, but I've finally finished my Masters and have this wonderful thing called time back! Anyway, apologies for the delay and let's close out the rest of this trip before we head into the last act of the Fire Nation arc.
> 
> Recap (because, you know, it's been 3 months): Katara, Zuko, Iroh and Lu Ten have been on a tour through some of the villages to help fire up morale for the war. Some old hag (*cough* Hama) doused the hopes for a smooth trip by warning Katara that she couldn't trust anyone the Royal Family, even the "good" ones – that she would just be a pawn in their power plays. Said woman did balance this out with some deeper knowledge of waterbending, leaving the poor girl confused as to why she's being helped.

 

The old woman's words stuck with Katara. She drifted through the rest of the day in a dream-like state, waiting for Iroh to finish speaking with the village elder so they could board to leave for the Capital, staring out over the ocean, picking at her food. Left with little to do, she had nothing to distract her from these thoughts, as the rest of their group boarded and they set sail. Her fingers grew sore from anxious tapping against her legs, scuffing her foot against the ground was more boring than diverting. She even tried counting the number of waves crashing against the ship until she grew tired of it all and excused herself to bed early. Pulling herself onto her bed, she slumped against the wall, dropping her head onto crossed arms.

Sitting alone in the darkness, it didn't take long for Katara to sink back into the same disarray of thoughts with one resounding conclusion. The woman, whoever she was, wasn't like any other Fire Nation person Katara had met. She desperately wanted to ask Iroh whether people in the Fire Nation studied waterbending, but a part of her was afraid of what Iroh's response might be. She was already unsure whether a question like that would be breaking the woman's confidence, since Zuko's persistence to figure out what had been said made her cautious to explore the option. There was a chance of one or both of them figuring out the connection between the question and the strange meeting. This could get the woman into trouble. Despite being frightening, the woman hadn't appeared to be a bad person. She seemed to want to help Katara, even though that made no sense, and this brought Katara back to the focal question reverberating around her mind, the one that troubled her the most.

Why would a Fire Nation citizen warn a waterbender about the Royal Family?

It was fair to say that not all of the villagers they had met were fierce advocates of the war. The sentiment hadn't been vocalised, but it was clear from the caution the citizens would initially treat their group with. She recognised the suspicion in their eyes, the tension in the elders' shoulders for their welcoming. Despite the Fire Lord thinking a tour for morale would help, the villagers were wary of the true motivations behind a number of high-ranking officials arriving. Those initial impressions had been eroded away in the midst of repaired buildings, new wells and cleared debris.

But not for this woman. She could have seen first-hand the atrocities of war, lost too many loved ones or simply been unwilling to let go of her animosity towards the symbols of the conflict. Maybe her studies of waterbending had led to empathy once she discovered the truth behind the raids on Katara's tribe.

Was the woman right? Would the elders from Katara's tribe hang their heads in collective shame over the last waterbender gallivanting around on a tour with three of the heirs to the Fire Nation throne? Katara never lost the ingrained lesson to keep her guard up around the Palace, but the hours spent with both Iroh and Zuko had earned a deep-seated trust in them. Neither of them had acted in any way to erode that trust.

Katara clenched her fists. The woman was wrong. She didn't know Zuko or Iroh - at least, not like Katara did. Whatever experiences in the woman's past that clouded her views of the Royal Family, there was no reason to think it had been these two at fault. Her mind rolled over the remaining family members: the wizened, cruel face of the Fire Lord and the raspy voice that could order her execution at any moment, the smirking manipulation of Azula and her increasingly accomplished style of bending, and the derisive volatility of Iroh's brother and Zuko's father. She shuddered at the sheer unpredictability of the group, but was surprised to feel relief wash through her. There were enough candidates to scar a person's view and cause a citizen to have doubts about trusting the family in general.

There was no reason to think the woman would know anything about Iroh or Zuko. Katara was sure that if the woman got to know them, she would change her mind. Despite the reassurances she gave herself, she knew that wasn't what was bothering her. It was the niggling voice buried in the depths of her mind that whispered that the woman wasn't completely mistaken; there were other Fire Nation citizens to be wary of, and there were indications that Zuko and Iroh could act differently to the people she knew. Maybe they would never act against Katara, but were they innocent? Would they always be the people she put her faith in?

Her hands gripped her legs as she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing aside those doubts. That didn't have to be true; the woman didn't have to be right. Maybe she had never met anyone from the Royal Family, but due to ingrained suspicions towards firebenders was wary of them. But that didn't make sense. Why would an old woman, living in a quiet village, be so suspicious of her  _own_  people?

Katara shook her head. This was useless. She was going in circles. This wasn't helping.

"You're acting strangely."

Zuko stood at the door. Katara jolted up from her slumped position, collecting her thoughts. The old woman's words swirled up again.  _You can't trust them, Katara. Even your friend over there._

"No, I'm not," she hissed back.

"Yes, you are. What did she say to you?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing to do with her," Katara snapped.

It was clear from the suspicion on the prince's face that he hadn't bought the lie.

"Yes, it does. Tell me."

Katara glared at him. The frustration coursed through her as she spat the words. "She was just someone wanting to know more about the Fire Nation's very own waterbender."

Zuko flinched at her tone. "Katara, we don't see you like that."

"Like what? A  _waterbender_?" She felt the tears threatening to spill out from her eyes, her resentment rapidly boiling over.

The prince's eyebrows knitted together as he gawked at her. " _No_. We don't own you."

That stopped her. "What?"

"We don't own you. You don't belong to us. You're not  _our_  waterbender."

She stared at him dumbly. Zuko reddened before quietly adding, "Didn't you know that?"

"How can you say that?" Katara's voice wavered, before finding its strength in her anger. "Your father thinks my people are savages; your grandfather wants us wiped from the face of this world. I doubt either of them view my place here as anything more than that of an irritating pet, one that hasn't slipped up yet. I'm a prisoner here, Zuko."

Uncertainty and fear flashed across Zuko's face before he crumpled, the poised prince before her dissolving. A scared boy remained, one watching his doubts and fears play out in front of him. The anger drained from her as tears finally escaped. The watery veil couldn't hide the familiar view of the prince clenching his tunic and worrying his lip in agitation.

She sighed, choking through the tears. Her fury, her frustration was not directed at him. Whether the Fire Nation family was her enemy or not, whether her status with them was below that of a komodo rhino, Zuko barely had any more control over his life than she did. While he didn't face the omnipresent threat of death, he remained as trapped and as suffocated as Katara. Despite his refusal to speak ill of his father, the prince walked on eggshells when they were in the same room, tripping over himself to show the man that he was worthy of his attention. His grandfather was no better, comparing Zuko to his sister and cousin, the Fire Lord's words dripping with contempt.

"I don't think of you like that, I don't know what-" Zuko's grip on his tunic didn't loosen as he stuttered. "I-I'm sure they don't want to kill you."

Dashing tears from her eyes, she whispered, "I don't know anything anymore."

"Yes, you do," he said. Hurt golden eyes met hers across the room. "Whatever that woman said to you is messing with your head. I think we should talk to Uncle abo-"

"No!" she exclaimed. A burst of panic flooded through her at the thought of more people knowing - specifically, of someone like Zuko's father discovering the woman's identity. What if she were labelled a threat? Quickly, she tried to cover her dismay, even though this meant deceiving her friend. "No, please don't. I think I'm just upset that our trip is ending."

Zuko seemed reluctant to believe her. "Are you sure?"

"No?" She gave him a shaky smile. "But it's not helping. I'll miss being out here."

"Me too." Zuko crawled onto the bed next to her, head leaning back against the wall. "Part of me wants to be able to stay here, sail the seas and learn everything there is to know. Then that part remembers how bad seasickness is."

A strangled laugh burst from her and she reached up to wipe the remnants of the tears from her eyes. "I shouldn't have taken this out on you," she said. "I don't want to be miserable for the rest of the trip."

"Uncle would be heartbroken if you were miserable on your birthday."

Katara hummed in agreement. The frustration still coiled in her stomach, but trying to decipher the woman's words had left her drained and empty. If there had been anyone she could have talked to openly, she would have. For the moment, however, it seemed easier to let Zuko steer the conversation to a simpler topic.

She shuffled around to face him. "He keeps hinting what he has planned, do you know?"

"Yes."

Grabbing his arm, she asked, "Can you tell me?"

"No," Zuko grumbled, pulling his arm away. "You both have your secrets; I'm going to keep mine."

She harrumphed, folded her arms and leaned back. "That's unfair, I'm the birthday girl."

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll be insufferable then. But until then, I'll make you a deal. You tell me what Uncle is hiding and I'll tell you one of the things planned for your birthday," he said, raising an eyebrow.

She frowned. "I can't, I promised Iroh."

"Well, so did I." He nudged her with his shoulder. "You're just being impatient. You know you'll enjoy it more if it's a surprise."

Katara didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Unfortunately, if the smug look on his face at her silence was any indication, Zuko already knew. Knowing she was being childish, she made a face at him, sticking out her tongue. Easily goaded, he responded in kind, and soon things were back to normal as far as Zuko was concerned. Katara was glad for the reprieve. She needed the return to life as usual. Anything to keep her mind from wandering back to the old woman's words and her imminent return to the Palace.

* * *

Katara couldn't sleep.

Iroh was right; her birthday ended up falling during their travel back to the Capital. Her persistent questions the evening before had yielded no answers as to any plans, with the crew frustratingly listening to the Crown Prince over her. Their responses spanned from pleading innocence all the way through to smothered laughter and overt winking. She knew about the smuggled musical instruments on board and determined that Iroh was the ringleader, but she was increasingly impatient to get to the day in question. She rolled over, peering at the pile of blankets on the other bed.

"Zuko, are you still awake?"

"No." The nest of blankets mumbled back.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not. Go away," the irritable voice responded.

"I can't sleep."

"Good for you, I can and want to. Leave me alone."

"You're grumpy."

"Shocking." A groan. The blankets shuffled, before there was a flash of gold in the dark as Zuko turned over. "Katara, you're going to be miserable in the morning if you don't sleep."

"No, I won't, it will be my birthday."

He glared at her for a moment, before huffing and rolling back over to face the wall. "Fine, but you have no birthday powers yet to annoy me. Go to sleep."

Katara frowned at the back of his head. "But I'm not tired," she whined.

"No. Go to sleep. I'm ignoring you."

Katara huffed in resignation as silence descended on the cabin, before throwing herself on her back and glaring at the ceiling. It was a still night, the waves gently rocking the ship. She tried to focus just on their rhythmic movement, her mind eventually calming.

She woke to the warmth of the sun streaming across her covers and the bustle of people in the corridor outside their room. She sat up, blinking through the remnants of sleep fogging her mind. The morning was finally here.

She glanced over at the still-sleeping prince, before picking up her pillow and throwing it at him. Zuko groaned, before rolling over and blearily looking at her.

"It's my birthday!" she exclaimed.

He pulled himself up, tousled hair falling across his face. "Oh good, you can be extra annoying," he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

She grinned at him. "And you have to be nice to me."

A hint of a smile appeared. "I do. Happy Birthday, Katara."

"Do you think Iroh will be up yet?"

Zuko scoffed. "I think Uncle is more excited than you are for today."

She pushed herself out of bed, rushing for the door. Pausing at the threshold and turning back towards him, she asked, "Are you coming?"

Another groan before Zuko dragged himself out of bed to follow her. They padded quietly down the corridor, taking care not to wake the crew, before stopping at Iroh's room. To her surprise and disappointment, they found the room empty. Zuko tugged on her arm, suggesting Uncle may be having already up and having breakfast. Despite their efforts to remain quiet, their efforts were unnecessary. Their paths didn't cross with anyone else on the way to the main dining area, which struck Katara as a little odd. But it was a big ship, and she theorised that most of the crew were still in bed, making use of the last two days before their arrival at the Palace and the usual routines. She had woken as the sun rose; this was a special day. She couldn't expect everyone else to have the same desire to rush from their beds.

Excited to see Iroh, Katara flew through the door as she reached the dining cabin, only to be struck with an explosion of colour. Sashes hung from the ceiling, cascading around the corners of the room, and swirling around sparkling ornaments that dangled from lanterns placed around the walls. The whole area was bustling with noise, the ship's crew already tucking into a sensational array of fruits, pastries and cakes arranged across a long table backed against the far wall. In the middle of the room stood a beaming Iroh with his arms flung wide; an amused Lu Ten stood beside him halfway through a mango. Feeling overwhelmed, Katara stood in stunned silence taking it all in, before her face broke into a matching grin.

"Happy Tenth Birthday, Katara," Iroh announced.

Lu Ten repeated the sentiment beside him.

She raced forward, throwing her arms around Iroh, before extracting herself and hugging Lu Ten. Eventually, she stood back, finding her voice, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don't know what to say, this is incredible."

Iroh chuckled. "Oh, we are just getting started. Have something to eat."

Katara grabbed a plate and helped herself to a little of every dish that caught her eye; fruit buffed till they shone, layered cakes of all different shapes and glistening pastries, their fillings remaining secret to her ravenous eyes. It was laid out in front of her like a deliciously scented rainbow. She had never seen so many of her favourites in one place. How had the chef managed to source such a range of colours?

Barely able to hold the plate with her excited shaking, she made her way to the table, sinking onto the bench as she absorbed the humming content of the crowd. The food appeared to have lured everyone here, many of the soldiers talking through mouths full of pastry, jam and fruit. The sheer number of soldiers up at this hour was staggering.

The lack of sleep still clouded her mind, and she turned to Iroh in confusion.

"How did you get everyone down here before I woke up?"

Lu Ten snorted in response to her question, rolling his eyes when she glared at him.

"Katara, this is when firebenders usually wake up." Iroh said, chuckling. "You're the only one who's changed their schedule today."

The three firebenders laughed and Katara blushed, trying to focus on the plate in front of her. Soon recovering from her embarrassment, she quickly cleared half her plate. The last of the pastries revealed a sweet fruit mince and when she raised it to investigate, she caught a passing twinkle in Iroh's eye.

"Are you ready for your presents?" he asked.

She dropped the half-eaten pastry. "Presents?"

Why would she have received any presents? Previous birthdays had passed without any mention of them, a message to her family and a chance to explore an untouched area of the Fire Nation with Iroh, Zuko and Ursa being the extent of celebrations.

"Your tenth birthday is an important one, well deserving of presents," Iroh explained.

Not waiting for her response, he reached below the table, revealing a wrapped gift which he held out in front of her. "I was up earliest, so your first gift will be from me."

Still unable to find her voice, Katara stared hesitatingly at the gift between Iroh's palms as he encouraged her to take it with a gentle shake. Even the paper was exquisite, the perfect sheen across it leaving her nervous about damaging it. With trembling hands, she took the present and carefully tried to unfold the wrapping paper without ripping it, revealing a smooth, polished wooden box hidden underneath. Propping open the lid, she gawked in awe at the collection of paints, brushes and parchment inside, then slowly reached down to touch the closest brush to her, running her fingertips over its silky-smooth hairs.

She'd only mentioned it once, more than a year ago. Memories of watching her Gran-Gran mixing dye in with a paste, painting a place nothing like anything Katara had ever seen. Icy turrets, twisting spires cut through the swirling snow storms of the images Gran-Gran created. When she'd asked, Gran-Gran had simply said that she'd lived many lives more than Katara had – lives, experiences and adventures that she could relive through the scenes she painted. Further questions simply lead to a cryptic instruction that Katara could use her imagination and discover worlds of her own. Why did old people always have to speak in riddles? Nevertheless, Katara had attempted a poorly received portrait of Sokka in front of the wall of his "barracks". Despite this, her mother had hung it on the wall of their igloo, claiming to see something wonderful in the squiggles and smeared colour.

She could feel tears threaten at the memories of home. The comfort of their igloo, snuggling together for warmth in the midst of a storm hammering the external walls felt like worlds away from her now. But there was a different kind of warmth spreading through her at the sight of this gift and the meaning behind it – Iroh had remembered her story. She blinked back the looming tears, shook her head, and looked up at him.

A knowing smile was spread across the man's face. "I thought you could paint scenes from our travels for me," he said, breaking her from her moment of reverence and helping her to find her voice.

"You remembered."

"It was hard not to."

Eyes wide and voice wavering, Katara thanked him. Receiving a cue from Iroh, Lu Ten brought out a second gift and pressed it down into her outstretched palms. It was harder to refrain from tearing the paper this time, and some of the folds gave way in her eagerness.

Upon peeling off the last of the wrapping paper, she was delighted to see that there was a smooth, luxurious-looking scarf folded up in a neat little square. Lifting it from the box, the scarf unfurled in a tumble, shades of blue and green swirling in a luxurious pattern rippling through the soft fabric. She clasped it between her hands, raising it to her face to press against her cheek and inhaled.

There must have been a spritz of fragrance over the box, the scent reminding her of the noble ladies she had passed in the Palace halls. With her head bowed to avoid their judgement and disdain, their perfume was often the only recognisable sign of their luxury and prestige. To her surprise, the scent did not evoke the negative association with those women, although they came to mind first. Instead, she was reminded of Ursa and the class and poise the Fire Princess carried herself with. A smile pulled at her lips at the memory of Lu Ten's return to the Palace. Ursa had allowed Katara to choose a perfume from her collection, stating that the occasion warranted something special. Pulling it away from her face, she marvelled in the wash of colour gripped between her hands.

"Thank you," she said quietly, adding as she looked up at Lu Ten, "I bet it wasn't easy finding something that colour in the Fire Nation."

Lu Ten laughed. "No, it wasn't. I got some strange looks from the merchant when I mentioned what I was looking for." He paused, before sending a cheeky look at his cousin. "Anyway, I think it's time for Zuko's present," he added slyly.

Surprised, she turned from the men sitting opposite her to Zuko, who was scowling back at Lu Ten from his place next to her. What? Surely there was no chance that Zuko had gotten her something. Katara stared at the side of his face incredulously and the prince flushed as he turned back and his eyes met hers. There was a moment of awkward silence before Zuko looked at his hands, then reached under and fumbled below the table. Something burst in Katara's chest at the sight of the wrapped box he emerged with. Now completely red, Zuko stared at the gift in his hands for a moment before he sighed and looked up at her.

"I hope you like it," he mumbled as he handed it to her. "Uncle helped."

"You mean Uncle helped pay for it?" Iroh corrected, raising his eyebrow quizzically. "You picked it, Prince Zuko."

Lu Ten chuckled, and then winced as Zuko kicked him under the table. Katara lingered, staring at him intrigued before she began to slowly unfold the wrapping paper, which after it was removed, unveiled a sleek maroon box, expensive-looking, adorned with a gold-lettering symbol embroidered on the top of the lid. Her palms smoothed over the outer surface of the small box, fingers tracing along the gold lettering. The symbol was unrecognisable at first glance, the name below it not providing any extra hints. However, she quickly forgot about the matter and proceeded to unveil its contents, letting out a small gasp once she discovered what lied inside the mysterious box.

A necklace lay encompassed by a sea of maroon, the pillow's colour matching the surrounding walls of the box. Silver chains were interwoven in a thin rope, the ornate design lying in a halo broken up only by the centrepiece, an elaborately entwined symbol. At first glance, the design appeared to be a sparkling ball. But as she peered at it, Katara realised it was a nest, one created from a myriad of vines and leaves effortlessly woven together. Two tiny sapphire turtleducks were interlaced within the borders of the centrepiece, giving the impression that the jewels were being swept up within the intricate design.

Katara stared enthralled by the necklace, words not forming in her mouth. In a daze, she didn't realise that her finger had reached out to brush the centrepiece until the cool surface sent a shock through her. Eventually, she squeaked out an "Oh."

"Don't you like it?" The hurt in Zuko's voice was apparent.

In a daze, she shook her head, still struggling to believe what she was seeing. "Wh-what, no, I- it's so beautiful. I just-"

"She likes it." Lu Ten finished the sentence for her, grinning. Katara nodded in agreement, watching the relief pass across Zuko's face.

"Oh, that's good then," he said. "Uncle kept saying it was an important birthday and I thought..." His voice trailed off as he shrugged.

"Thank you," she said, before a thought stuck her and she frowned. "I-I feel bad for keeping you awake last night."

He blinked in confusion, before smiling. "You should."

* * *

The day passed in a flurry of games, laughter and food. The sun had begun to set, cascading the deck of the ship in orange and purple hues. The four of them leaned against the rail, watching as the reflection of the descending sun danced in the waves. Tired but happy, Katara drank it all in, wishing this peaceful moment would never end. Her contemplation was interrupted by Iroh leaning over and nudging her.

"Are you ready for the last part of your day?"

Eyes wide, she looked at him. "There's more?"

"The best part is to come," he said, winking at her. "You remember what we stowed away?"

The realisation dawned on her, and she broke into beaming smile. "I do!"

"What did you stow away?" Zuko asked. Behind him, Lu Ten looked suspicious.

"Oh, just something that will help us throw Katara the best birthday party we possibly can," Iroh said.

"That's not an answer," Zuko grumbled.

Iroh chuckled, before heading in to direct the crew in setting up the deck ready for the night. Small lanterns were placed around the railings, seating was brought up from below deck and food and drinks were laid out. The sun escaped from the sky, pitching the deck into darkening hues as they feasted. Sated and relaxed firebenders shot flames towards the lanterns from their positions on the ground. Cheers rained out as each of them found their mark.

As they finished their plates, Iroh leaned in and whispered to Katara that he needed to discuss the setup of the band with the lieutenant on board, before heading off. In his absence, Lu Ten shifted over to question their secrecy, and Katara shot back her most innocent expression.

He scoffed in response. "I don't buy it; you two are up to something."

"You'll just have to wait and see."

"We're not supposed to have any secrets," Zuko burst out, prompting an amused glance from Lu Ten. He ducked his head and scowled at his feet.

"This doesn't count," she answered. "It's for your own good."

Zuko threw her a suspicious look. "For  _my_  own good?"

Katara shook her head vigorously. "I'm not saying anything. You can't make me, it's my birthday."

Zuko groaned. "How long are you going to use that excuse?"

"At least until the end of the day," she said, grinning back.

"Speaking of birthdays…" Lu Ten laughed, before having a look over his shoulder. He peeked across at their empty glasses, and gestured at Katara to pass them over. Confused, she handed them to him one by one, watching as he tipped some of the liquid from his drink into each of their glasses.

"Isn't that-" Zuko started to speak, cutting off as Lu Ten shushed him, handing back their glasses.

"It's Katara's birthday, seems like a perfect time to celebrate to me," he said. "You should learn to try new experiences, Zuko." Lu Ten chuckled as his cousin glared suspiciously at the dark coloured liquid in his glass. "Come on, you only have to take a sip."

Katara held out her hands, taking back her glass eagerly. She was excited; she'd never been allowed to try wine. Alcohol was traditionally shared only amongst the adults of her tribe, although exceptions were made for special occasions. In the years leading up to her capture, those had been fewer in number, and she was still considered too young to be allowed to taste it. Her father had once allowed Sokka to try some of his ale the night before the men's departure from the tribe. Her brother had continued to proudly bring this up for months after they had left, boasting that it was sign of their father's faith in his ability to protect the tribe in his absence.

She looked over at Zuko, grinning at his expression. The prince scowled at her, before raising his eyes to the sky and sighing. Feeling a slight breeze brush against her cheeks, she followed his gaze until his resigned agreement reached her ears.

"Fine," he groaned, "but your birthday is going to be the death of me."

"You two should try it at the same time," Lu Ten encouraged. "You need to clink your glasses together first. It's a celebration."

Katara peered down at the crimson liquid. The smell was tangy, but the beautiful rich colour shone through despite there only being a few mouthfuls in her glass. She was reminded of the purple berries of the Fire Nation, with their powerful sweet flavour and soft texture, the opulence of the Palace, the draping of Iroh's robes. Lu Ten's words reminded of watching adults from her home perform the ritual of knocking their glasses together and she was filled with anticipation at being a part of that long-standing tradition. "Okay."

Lifting her glass, she leaned over to Zuko, savouring the clinking sound as their glasses knocked together. Zuko still looked sceptical but held the glass up to his lips, hesitating as he waited for her to mimic the action.

"Bottom's up!" Lu Ten's voice nudged them into tipping their glasses up simultaneously, and Katara felt the liquid hit her tongue.

It was  _disgusting_.

Scrunching her face up, Katara gulped down the mouthful. The bitterness remained on her tongue and she ran her teeth across it in a vain attempt to rid her mouth of the taste. Hearing a splutter, she looked up. Zuko's expression mirrored hers, nose crinkled and reproachful eyes glittering back at her, before he turned on his cousin. His traitor cousin, who was leaning back and unabashedly laughing at them.

"You tricked us!" Katara accused, hearing Zuko gag beside her.

"And like every enthusiastic child before you, you fell for it," Lu Ten said, holding his hands up defensively as he continued to chuckle. "You should have seen your faces."

Grimacing, Zuko pushed himself back to lean against the wall and sulk. Unfazed, Lu Ten got to his feet, leaving and returning with two more cups. Katara frowned at him, reluctant to take the peace offering.

"Don't look at me like that Katara, it's just some juice to help them get rid of the taste," Lu Ten responded, chuckling.

She took it, taking a place beside Zuko to share accusatory glares at his cousin. On the other side of the ship, intoxicated soldiers moved from their slouched places to shift items from inside the ship out onto the deck, their jovial voices cutting through the silence of the night. Realising what the items were, Katara snuck a glance at Zuko, covering it with a sip of her juice. He didn't appear to have noticed, but Iroh's arrival interrupted any further attempts to find out. As their attention flicked to him, two soldiers emerged from the cabin, their burden obvious despite being partially obscured by Iroh's form. They were carrying a large instrument between them, the metal glinting in the firelight. Katara heard a breath hastily sucked in next to her, turning to see Zuko raise his hands defensively.

"Oh no. No no no. I'm not playing the tsungi horn."

"But, it's my birthday," Katara said, teasingly.

"Nope. Not enough," he said, frowning at her before swinging around and staring at his uncle, eyes widening in comprehension. "You two  _planned_  this!"

Iroh looked shocked, a picture of innocence. "Of course not, Prince Zuko. I wouldn't dream of it. I merely wanted to throw a party for young Katara to celebrate a  _very_  important birthday."

Zuko wasn't buying it. She avoided his accusing gaze, knowing she was at risk of breaking, and instead turned to Iroh and Lu Ten. She didn't find any help. Lu Ten was barely holding his laughter at bay, but it was the twinkle in Iroh's eyes that was her undoing. A short giggle burst from her, before she looked back and smiled sheepishly at Zuko.

Glaring, the prince pointed at her. "I  _knew_ it! You can't make me play it. I refuse."

"We'll see," Iroh said, chuckling as he turned to leave with Lu Ten. "Either way, I'm going to join them."

It didn't take long for the men to finish preparations. Instruments were picked up and the voices descended into rowdy songs. Katara watched, the prince remaining in sullen silence. After a few songs had been played, Lu Ten came back over, offering a hand to Katara.

"Father tells me you can sing."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, I can't."

"He said you sing a few folk songs," Lu Ten said. She scrunched her nose and he nudged her encouragingly. "He'll sing them with you if you want, and I can…try."

"I-I don't know."

"See, sometimes we just don't want to do things," Zuko muttered.

Katara scowled at him, before looking back at Lu Ten.

Lu Ten winked at her. "Come on, isn't it your birthday?"

Katara sighed in resignation, before reaching up and grabbing his hand. She was pulled up and as they walked away, she peeked back to stuck her tongue out at Zuko. The prince frowned back, slumping back against the wall to mope. Reaching the group, she was pulled in by Iroh who leaned in to ask which song she wanted to sing. Despite her nerves, she picked one she'd sung around the Palace. Iroh nodded in recognition before he gave the band directions.

"Start us off, Katara."

Her nerves were swallowed momentarily by the warm smile gracing Iroh's face. It was enough for her to start singing, if a little hesitantly. She didn't have to wait long before Iroh's exuberant voice joined her, giving her some much needed cover when her nerves failed again. Members of the band, including Lu Ten, joined in for the second chorus and she couldn't hold back the smile when the end was met with applause. Blushing, Katara thanked them, before shuffling off to the side. Sensing her reluctance to repeat the effort, Iroh launched the remaining band into playing another song before he headed off to find another drink. Finding Zuko on the other side of the ship, she slumped against the wall of the boat next to him.

She groaned. "That was embarrassing. I really can't sing."

Zuko shrugged. "You weren't that bad," he responded dismissively. "You got some of the notes right."

Katara's mouth dropped open. " _Rude._  You're supposed to make me feel better." A thought emerged as she watched the prince turn red, a slow grin spreading across her face. "I'm going to get you back for this."

The colour drained from Zuko's face. "No, wait-" he pleaded.

Ignoring his begging, Katara pushed herself back up and dashed through the crowd to Iroh. In response to the tap his arm, Iroh turned, splashing some of the wine down his sleeve. He frowned at the offending glass for a moment before fixing her with a curious smile.

"I didn't mean to bother you Iroh, but I am  _so excited_  to see Zuko play the tsungi horn," she said, innocently. "I wonder if you would be able to convince him to play."

Iroh raised an eyebrow, before a beaming smile broke out. It was clear he didn't mind if there was an ulterior motive. "I think you are right, it is time to add a new band member," he said, before heading towards his nephew.

Katara remained at a distance, watching as Iroh reached an apprehensive Zuko. It didn't take long for Zuko to determine who the real instigator was, peering past his uncle to glare at her. She waved back. Iroh leaned in to speak with him and eventually the boy's shoulders slumped in defeat. Zuko scowled at her as he followed his uncle towards the rest of the soldiers, Lu Ten clapping a hand on his shoulder as he reached them. Zuko was handed the tsungi horn, and he stiffly took his place alongside the band. Both Iroh and Lu Ten joined him as Katara moved into the crowd so she could watch.

It was clear to her that Zuko was nervous, but as the music started, the practised notes emerged from the tsungi horn without fault. The band began a jollier number, each of the members falling into their rhythms. It was soon apparent that long years of musical training had paid off for each of the Royal Family members. Iroh's style was more relaxed, while Lu Ten was skilled but merry, possibly a result of the drinks that had flowed through the night. Katara could see the tension fading from Zuko as he relaxed into the music. His notes resonated above the other instruments as she focused on him and it was clear that Iroh hadn't been exaggerating; Zuko played it beautifully. The longer he played, the more the tension in his body faded, as if he had forgotten he was in front of an audience.

The song built towards its climatic ending. The more inebriated members of the band were enthusiastic in their final notes, and the gathered group broke into applause and joyful cheering. Zuko jerked at the sound, blinking as if he had forgotten they were there. The lanterns spread out along the bow of the ship cast shadows across the band, but she could just see the tell-tale splotches of his embarrassment. Following along with the band, the prince bowed, before shuffling off to the side to head back to the other side of the ship, barely acknowledging the claps on his shoulder from the rowdy soldiers he passed.

The band began to play the next song. Katara hesitated before trailing behind him as he headed around the corner from where they had originally sat. Zuko was slumped against the wall, staring blankly out across the water. His fists clenched as she approached and heard him sigh.

"You don't have to say anything." He didn't look at her, but she could tell he was frowning.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not very good in public, I can't seem to focus enough."

"What are you talking about?" Katara asked. "That was amazing.  _You_ were amazing." Zuko turned towards her, confusion crossing his face. "Didn't you see them all cheering for you?" she added.

"They've all had too much wine and probably cheering for Uncle…or Lu Ten."

Katara nudged him. "You're being silly, you were really good Zuko." He stared at her for a long moment, before his eyebrows furrowed and he looked back out across the water. She moved to stand beside him, before adding quietly, "Why don't you believe me?"

"Because it wasn't good enough." He looked down at his hands. "Because my instructors think I could do better. I don't have the _poise_ that Azula has; the natural talent my father had when he was instructed by them."

"Don't listen to them." Her response was met with a dry laugh, so she tried again. "What do they know? Everyone tonight thought you were brilliant. People don't cheer like that in sympathy."

He looked up, eyebrow raised. "They cheer like that with alcohol."

She laughed, before rolling her eyes at him. "You just refuse to take a compliment, don't you?" When he didn't respond, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Zuko, you were brilliant."

He stopped, standing perfectly still and just blinked at her, before slowly bringing his hand up to his cheek. "Oh." A pause. "Thank you."

She beamed. "You're welcome."

A moment of awkward silence passed between them. Eventually, Zuko said sheepishly, "I'm sorry I didn't say the right thing after you sang. I didn't mean to be rude."

Katara giggled. "I think you learnt your lesson."

"Yeah, I guess," the prince responded, frowning.

"I know I'm not very good," she said, shrugging. "Sokka always teased me, but my parents always encouraged me to sing anyway."

"You're definitely enthusiastic."

"Is that code for bad?"

"No, you're not bad. You're definitely better than me."

Katara scoffed. "Based on that performance, I wouldn't think so. I think you've got a lot of talent."

"Let's not start that again."

"Agreed."

They stood there for a while, until they decided they were safe from repeat performances, heading back to watch the band's raucous renditions of Fire Nation songs. The words were beginning to blur together, but the energy hadn't faded from the group.

Finally, the band started to ease into the end of their night. Iroh announced that there was still one more surprise, giggling as he headed off the deck. He soon returned with a handful of colourful tubes that he referred to as 'fireworks'. Katara had already witnessed the effects of these from a distance, occasionally getting the chance to stand on the balcony of the Palace.

Stars shone above their heads as they stood on the deck waiting for the first flash of light. A thin burning line of flame coursed up into the sky, and Katara jumped as the world exploded into blazing colours, the booming sound reverberating through her. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and didn't need to look up to know it was Iroh. As she watched the sky shattered with sparkling streaks and cascading flashes, there was no Palace, no old woman, no broken family or memories of loved ones beyond her reach. Katara's world existed as swirling bursts of amber and scarlet, cracks and sparkles, light and joy.

For that moment, it was enough.


End file.
